My Father's Keeper
by Emerald1
Summary: When Gibbs goes too far protecting Tony after the events in Flesh and Blood, who will pay the ultimate price?
1. Chapter 1

**a/n - Starting a new one. This is going to be a rough ride, folks. Tony lovers will like this one later on, but have patience please. His part is slow to develop. I'm only on chapter 4, so I may not be posting every day. I am again writing two different stories at the same time. (well, actually more like five, but two that are at the posting here stage) I'll start posting the other one soon, too.**

My Father's Keeper

"Morning, Sarah." Tim leaned over and gave his sister a peck on the cheek before sitting down. She was wearing the early morning attire of all the students in the dorm's dining hall, flannel lounge pants and a school t-shirt, with her hair tied up in a messy bun.

Her heels up on the chair, she gave him a half-hearted glare over the coffee cup she had resting on her raised knees. "You weren't such an early bird before you became a fed, big brother. Why couldn't we meet for lunch, instead?"

"This can't wait, it's about Dad."

She stared at her brother. He wore an expression she had seen before, one that she hoped to never see again. "Don't tell me, he fell off the wagon, didn't he? Did Mom say what triggered it?"

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mom didn't say anything, she kicked him out."

"Good for her." Sarah sat forward, slamming her cup down on the table. "Maybe if she'd stood up to him sooner it wouldn't have gotten so bad. Is he staying with Uncle Mike?"

"Nope, he's on a bus, headed here."

"Well, crap."

"Yeah."

"What are we going to do, Tim? Will Agent Gibbs help you?" Sarah used some napkins to mop up the coffee she had sloshed before picking it back up.

Tim reached over and snagged some more napkins for her. "I'm sure he will, I'm going to talk to him as soon as I get to work this morning. In the meantime, everything that could cause a problem is boxed up and in the trunk of my car, and Jethro is going to stay at a friend's place until it's safe." He leaned forward and squeezed her hand. "You are going to go to your boss and pick up some extra hours. If Dad knows that you're swamped between work and school, you should be all right. With any luck I can get him back in rehab again in a few weeks."

"And if you can't?" She didn't expect him to answer, and he didn't. This wasn't new territory. William McGee had battled with alcohol for as long as Sarah could remember. Unfortunately, he had made an art of hiding his addiction from everyone except his wife and children. Change ships, ports and bases often enough, and the rumors never quite catch up, at least not quick enough to help.

"He'll be here today." Tim stood and kissed the top of her head. "I'll call you as soon as I have a plan." She nodded back and gave her brother a brave smile as he walked away. She waited until she saw his car pull away from the curb before calling her boss at the off-campus coffee house where she worked. Mr. Hall was not only a flexible boss for his student employees, as the son of a recovering alcoholic he'd become a wonderful resource since her father's last stumble.

---NCIS---

"Where's Gibbs?" McGee was early, but it was a rare day that Gibbs wasn't already somewhere in the building. Ziva looked up from the stack of paperwork on her desk to see him with a box.

"He is with Director Vance, they are not expected back for another hour. Is there a problem, McGee?"

Tim needed to speak to Gibbs before the rest of his team. "No, just something I need to talk to him about. I'm going to go take this to Abby." He managed to make his escape before Tony arrived.

The music was blasting in Abby's lab, but she turned it down the second she saw McGee's expression. "Hey, Abs, need to tell you something and need to ask a favor." He sat the box on the corner of her desk, not quite sure how she was going to react.

"What's up?" She took a long slurp of her Caf-Pow as she studied him.

"My dad started..." Tim stopped and took a deep breath. This was always the hardest part. "He's started drinking again."

Tim McGee drank less alcohol than any man Abby had ever met outside of a Priest, and even they took the sacrament, so she wasn't quite sure if he was overreacting or should be worried. "Define drinking. Are you talking about getting plastered once in a while, or binging, or..."

"He's an alcoholic, Abby."

Very few things stopped Abby cold, but that admission did. After a few seconds of stunned silence, she reached out and took his hand. "Wow, you've never talked about that before."

"Yeah, well, he's back drinking again and Mom's kicked him out of the house. He's on his way here, so I wanted you to know that Jethro is staying at a friend's place in the country until this is over and to not just drop by, okay?"

"You think he could hurt Jethro? Are you and Sarah safe?"

He shrugged. "Working on it. I've got this box of stuff that can't be at the apartment when he gets there and I was hoping..."

"Sure, I'll take it. So, is this your stash of booze?" She hated to see him upset and hoped to get a smile out of him as she poked around in the box. She wasn't surprised to see the bottle of Everclear he used to clean electronics, or the bottle of bourbon that everyone on the team had been given last Christmas, but the hand sanitizer was a surprise, as were the bottles of flavored extracts. "McGee..."

"It'll be okay, Abs."

She wasn't totally convinced. "You're going to talk to Gibbs right? Because he can help, I mean he protected Ziva from her dad and last week he helped Tony with all the trouble his dad caused..."

"As soon as he gets back, I promise."

---NCIS---

It was mid-morning and McGee had worked his way through most of the backlog of paperwork on his desk before Gibbs and Director Vance arrived back at the Yard. Vance did not make an appearance in the squadroom, and Gibbs was demanding finished paperwork before he even sat down. Tony and Ziva both muttered apologies and started working seriously on their files for the first time that day, while McGee was able to hand over a large stack ready for Gibbs to sign off on, hoping it would help the older man's mood.

"Well, at least someone accomplished something this morning." Gibbs took the offered files and tossed them in his inbox, not wanting to deal with another reminder of the Prince Sayif fiasco. When McGee didn't immediately return to his desk, Gibbs took a better look at him. "Problem, McGee?"

Tim froze, sensing how bad of a mood Gibbs was in. "Yeah, actually, I need to talk to you about something when you have a minute, but it can wait."

"I need coffee, come on." Gibbs headed straight for the elevator as McGee first scrambled to get out of his way and then scrambled again to catch up with him. The elevator had just started to move when Gibbs flipped the emergency switch. "All right, McGee, spit it out."

Even after all the years of being part of the team, facing Gibbs like this still made Tim nervous and he unconsciously rubbed his sweaty palms against his pant legs. "Boss, it's about my dad. He's arriving later today and..."

"No."

"Boss?"

"Nope, not happening, McGee. I'm still cleaning up the mess from DiNozzo's old man, and the last thing Tony needs is you rubbing your family in his face."

"What?"

Gibbs was on too much of a roll to see the effect his words were having on his agent. "Let me make this perfectly clear. Your team mates have not had the fortunate experience of having a great childhood. Tony has had enough of a reminder of that fact. He does not need to see you showing your dad off around here, especially when we're still dealing with the fallout from his father's involvement with Prince Sayif and his family, so you are not to allow your father to step foot in the building, you are not to even mention the fact that he is in town. Is that clear, McGee?"

Tim reached out and turned the elevator back on. "Crystal, sir." When the door opened on the next floor he immediately stepped out, intending to put some distance between himself and Gibbs before he said anything he'd regret. Gibbs wasn't quite done.

"You're supposed to be Tony's friend. I shouldn't have had to explain this to you, McGee. I expected better." Tim froze at the words. He'd been the one to help Tony with his father, he'd hacked into the hotel records and determined how much was owed, he'd loaned Tony the last five hundred dollars needed to pull off the rescue of his father's reputation, and he'd been the one to sit at a bar with Tony most of the night his father left town.

"I guess you don't know me that well, Gibbs, but don't worry. I'll make sure my family doesn't bother anyone here." He stayed ramrod straight until he heard the doors slide closed, and then slumped against the wall, shaking.


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n - Wow, you guys like this one. Yeah, Gibbs' relationship with McGee is a little different than what I often write, but this season Gibbs has been "off" I think. He didn't notice that Ducky's mother had died? It's canon on the show that Tony is a regular visitor to Gibbs' home and certainly suggested that Ziva is, too. This picks up right after Flesh and Blood, by then McGee has been to Gibbs' home once - to sit in his basement, hacking into the FBI for Gibbs. I'm taking the differences in how Gibbs treats his team members, combined with the fallout of the case from that episode. (As involved as Tony's dad was, it had to have been noticed by someone further up the food chain) On a normal day, yeah, Gibbs wouldn't have jumped the gun, would have noticed the stress McGee was under. Unfortunately, normal and NCIS rarely meet.**

* * *

"Mr. Hall, do you have a minute?" Greg Hall looked up at Sarah's timid voice. She was one of his more popular baristas. Her spunkiness and pretty face were a good combination, catching the eye of many of the businessmen that frequented the coffee house.

"What's wrong, Sarah?" He unlocked the brakes and turned his wheelchair to face her. "Are you all right?"

She sat in the chair next to his desk, her backpack on her lap. "I was wondering if I could pick up some extra hours this week."

The schedule was already set, of course, but there was always a little wiggle room if the reason was right. He watched her reaction closely. "What's up, you saving up money for something special?"

"No," she shook her head as she twisted the straps in her hands. "My dad is arriving tonight. Tim thought it would be safer if I was busy working."

"He's drinking again?" Ever since Sarah had confessed to him during her father's last round of rehab, Greg had kept an eye on the young woman. Her shrug and lip chewing told him he was right.

"Mom kicked him out of the house this time, and I'm glad she finally stood up for herself, but..."

"But you're scared because it's never been bad enough for her to do that." Understanding, he finished for her. "Have you talked to your mom about it yet?"

"She's not answering her phone." As if on cue, her phone beeped. Mr. Hall waited while she checked the text message, reaching out for her hand when she teared up.

"Bad news?"

"My brother went to his boss today for help and he told Tim no. Tim was really counting on his help."

He didn't have a clue why someone would turn down such a request, but he couldn't. He squeezed her hand and waited for her to look up. "Sarah, you plan on being here every night you need to be away from him. If I don't have any work for you, then you can stay in the office and do your schoolwork. If he shows up, I'll tell him you're doing inventory for me. That's every night except Tuesdays. On Tuesdays, you're going with me to the ACOA meetings. Is that a deal?"

Sarah nodded in agreement. Greg Hall ran the local chapter of the support group for adult children of alcoholics. She had attended meetings off and on, attending less frequently when her father remained sober. Tim had promised to attend a meeting with her, but a case had taken him out of town. "Tuesdays, I promise. Thank you, Mr. Hall. I'll see you this afternoon."

---NCIS---

"Hey, Abs." Tim came into the lab and dropped down onto one of the stools, swiveling it around to face her.

Abby finished loading her samples into Major Mass before joining him at the table. "Hey, McGee, did you talk to Gibbs yet?"

"Yeah."

"And...?" She smiled as she waited for him to tell her that Gibbs had taken care of his problem.

Tim shook his head. "And I'm on my own. I've been given orders to not allow my father anywhere near our building, and to not mention to Tony that he's even in town."

"What? Wait... what?" Abby shook her head in disbelief as she sat on the other stool. "No, you must have misunderstood him. Gibbs wouldn't have..."

"Abby, Gibbs told me point blank that the last thing Tony needs is to have me rubbing my family in his face, that he expected better of me." McGee pressed his palm against his forehead. "He made it pretty clear, he's not interested in even listening, let alone helping."

She was determined. "I'll go talk to him, he always listens to me."

"No, Abby." He caught her arm before she could stand up and leave. "He's already made up his mind, there's no point in getting him mad at you, too."

"But..."

"No, Abby." He pressed his fingertip against her lips. "You're not going to say a word to Gibbs about this. Promise me." He gave her a serious look as he repeated himself, "promise me."

"All right, I promise, but I don't like it. What are you going to do?"

"Don't worry, I'll manage, I always do. It would have been nice to have the support, but it's time I faced facts."

Abby didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean? What facts?"

He had started to leave, but now she was the one that had a grip on his arm, forcing him to explain. "You, Tony, Ziva, Ducky, even Jimmy, you're all family to Gibbs. That's an exclusive club that I'll never be part of."

"But when Gibbs put you on the team, he said you belonged to him." She struggled to convince him he was part of the family.

Tim sadly shook his head as he confessed what he'd never said out loud before. "Yeah, he owns me." She looked at him with encouragement until he finished. "I'm a tool, Abs, just like one of his woodworking chisels. Take me off the shelf when I'm needed and then shove me away when I'm done being useful."

When she didn't have an instant comeback, he knew he was right.

---NCIS---

There was a strange vibe in the office that afternoon, trust Tony to pick up on it. When Gibbs left again for another go-around with one of the underlings at SecNav's, he started to question his teammates. "What's bugging the Boss, Ziva? Any idea?"

"I do not know why he is testy today, Tony."

"What about you, McGeek, did you do something to piss the old man off?"

Over the years, Tim had prided himself on his increased ability to let the snark roll off his back, but his conversation with Gibbs seemed to have wiped that completely away. "Of course it was me, DiNozzo. Isn't everything that goes wrong around here my fault?"

If he had looked up, McGee would have seen the exchange of surprised and worried glances. "You want to talk about it, Probie?"

"No, he doesn't." Gibbs walked back in just in time to hear the question and glared at McGee. Tim kept his head down and didn't respond to either of them.

Tim didn't speak to anyone in the squadroom for the rest of the day that wasn't related to the paperwork they were catching up on. As they were shutting down their computers at the end of the day, Ziva tried to draw him out again. "We are going for drinks tonight, McGee. Would you like to join us?"

It was a regular event, and he often went with the group to unwind over a glass of wine before heading home. Tonight, he didn't want to sit in a bar and pretend that all was right with his world and he certainly didn't want to pick his father up at the bus station with alcohol on his breath. "Thanks, but no thanks." He picked his coat up and walked out without any further goodbyes.

Tony almost asked Gibbs what was wrong with McGee, but one look at the older man's face and he changed his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**a/n - Thank you all for your wonderful feedback. I did correct an error in chapter one (I changed the name of McGee's father and missed it in that chapter) so don't get confused now that his name is different. Sorry about that.**

It hurt more than he thought it would to hand the Porsche keys over to the salesman at the consignment lot, but they would be able to sell his beloved sports car quicker and easier than he would be able to on his own. Now he sat in the faded and worn seat of a twenty year old Honda. With the impending sale of his car, every dime of his book money had now been consumed by his father's drinking. Private rehab facilities never came cheap, and the car would not buy enough weeks to make it work.

His newest book was almost done, he was going to have to push hard to finish the final revisions and pray that Lydia liked it enough to authorize an advance. She wasn't happy that he'd started a new series instead of writing another book about Tibbs and company, but right now he was grateful he'd followed his instincts on that subject.

The car needed some work and he winced at the sound the power steering made as he turned the corner and pulled into the parking lot at the bus station. He and Sarah had planned out the evening and she was at his apartment cooking dinner for the three of them. All he had to do was to get his father safely back to the apartment, sober.

By the time the last bus from Des Moines arrived, the terminal was almost deserted. Tim waited as the college kids tumbled off the bus in a hurry and the families bustled their small children off. Eventually, a familiar figure stood in the bus doorway. "Hey, Dad, how was the trip?"

"How do you think?" William McGee glared at his son as he stormed past, shoving a suitcase at him. "Do you know what kind of lowlifes ride on a bus?"

Tim bit back a retort and caught the bag. He also caught a whiff of something else as the older man passed him, but waited until they were out in the lot to confront him. The suitcase he was carrying had been in the luggage compartment under the bus, but he was eying the duffel bag his father was holding tightly. "Give me the bottle, Dad."

William glared at him, but his grip on the bag tightened even more. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm not playing this game, Dad. Either give me the bottle, or you can just get back on a bus and go home to Mom." While he spoke, Tim set the suitcase on the back of his car and unzipped it. He didn't find anything, but he knew that his father would not have had his stash where he couldn't get to it. He held out his hand and waited.

For once, Tim was not going to back down and eventually his father opened the duffel and handed him a half empty bottle of cheap bourbon. Tim didn't hesitate, he walked to the nearest storm drain as he unscrewed the lid and then poured the rest of the bottle out.

"What the hell are you doing, boy?"

He tossed the empty bottle in the trash. "You're going to be in my home, Dad, and it's dry." Not finished, Tim held his hand out again.

William grunted and hung onto the bag. "What? You don't trust me?"

Tim wanted to laugh. "When I was growing up, how many times did you tell me that trust was earned, not given? You tell me that Mom kicked you out of the house, you show up with booze on your breath and at least one bottle hidden in your bag. Now, let me see what else in there or go buy a ticket back home."

The duffel was handed over with enough force to almost knock Tim off his feet, but after years in the gym with Gibbs, he was able to stay upright. No other bottles were in the bag, so he tossed it into the back seat. "Pockets." Will glared at him again, but finally handed over a flask. Tim emptied that, too, into the drain before shoving the empty silver flask into his own coat pocket. "Okay, bank card, credit cards and cash."

"What?"

Tim pointed at the drain. "What good does that do if you can just walk down to the liquor store the first time you're alone? You're here to get dried out again, I told you that on the phone." He ignored the grumbling as his father handed over the cards and the forty three dollars in his wallet.

Once the suitcase was in the trunk, the two men were on the road. Will glanced around at the aged car. "What happened to that fancy sports car you bought yourself?"

"Gonna need the cash, aren't we?" Will didn't have an answer to that and the trip to the apartment was made in silence.

---NCIS---

Sarah checked the oven one last time. The enchiladas were bubbling nicely as the last of the cheese melted. Years of alcohol had destroyed most of William's sense of taste, causing her mother to adapt to a highly spiced menu. Tim's bout with an ulcer in high school had forced Julia to find a middle ground and Sarah had carefully duplicated her mother's recipe. Mild enough for Tim, but spicy enough that the hot sauce she would sprinkle over her father's serving wouldn't seem out of place.

The salad he'd demand but never touch was ready in the refrigerator, all she'd have to do was add the dressing, and the ice tea was ready to serve. Sarah poured a small glass of the tea, it was almost sickeningly sweet, but the added sugar always seemed to help calm the shakes when her father started to sober up. Checking the time, Sarah tried one last time to call her mother. Like it had all day, the call went to voice mail. Sarah disconnected the call without bothering to leave a message. She'd already left five, and there really wasn't anything else left to say.

A text message arrived from her brother. It was short and sweet, just one letter "d" and the number five, but the siblings had developed their own code years ago. Dad was only slightly drunk and they were five minutes out. Oven mitts at the ready, Sarah started her countdown. It was almost showtime.

---NCIS---

William looked around as Tim pulled into his assigned parking space. "You've still got this crappy little place?"

"I'm not really home enough to bother getting someplace bigger, Dad. Work keeps me pretty busy." Tim picked up both the suitcase and the duffel bag and locked the car. "I'm also on a deadline with my publisher, so I'll be home every evening that I'm not working on a case."

"So, are you going to show me around where you work? Meet the infamous Gibbs?" Will followed him up the stairs.

"Unfortunately, we're kinda on a lock down right now. Another agent's dad got involved with a case and we're still digging out from it."

"In other words, you're too damn embarrassed to let anybody see your old man."

Tim stopped just outside the door, subtly rattling it to let Sarah know they were there. "No, Dad, I'm serious. It was an attempt to assassinate a Saudi prince on American soil. Things are still pretty wound up, so I need you to stay away from the Yard. Besides, I'm thinking about taking a transfer to another agency."

"Navy's not good enough anymore?"

Tim was determined to not let his father provoke him into a fight. "The FBI has more opportunities for advancement and Homeland Security is expanding." Not giving his father a chance to argue, Tim opened the door.

"Hi, Daddy." Sarah was setting the salad on the table as the door opened. "Welcome home, I bet you're ready for a hot meal. I fixed your favorite." She hugged him and offered her cheek for a kiss before returning to the kitchen to dish up the plates while Tim took his father's bags into the bedroom.

As much as they may not have wanted it to happen, Tim and Sarah found themselves falling into the familiar roles of their childhood. By the end of the dinner, Tim was starting to stutter again and Sarah was hiding behind her long hair. As their father finished his last bites of his food, Tim called a halt to the evening.

He stood and picked up his plate as he bent down to kiss his sister's cheek. "Sarah, that...that was wonderful, but shouldn't you be getting back to the dorm to study?" Grateful for the out, she didn't argue.

"I feel bad about leaving you with the dishes, but I do have a paper to finish."

"Don't worry about the dishes. Come on, I'll give you a ride back." Tim turned to his father. "I... I'll just be a few minutes. The TV's in the bedroom if you want to watch the news" His and Sarah's plates were rinsed and in the sink, so Tim retrieved his coat and followed her out the door. They didn't stop until they were down the stairs, when they both sagged against the wall.

"That went okay, didn't it?"

Tim pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "It went fine."

She hung onto him as they walked to the car. "How long before you can get him back in rehab?"

"I talked to Dr. Davis earlier and they're willing to work with me on the money, so as soon as I either get the car sold or get the advance from my publisher."

"He should be willing to work with you. I think by now, you've put his kid through college." Sarah watched Tim as he unlocked the car door for her. "Why are you bothering to lock this thing?"

Tim stared at the car he'd just spent five hundred dollars on to replace his beautiful Porsche Boxster convertible. "Habit."

---NCIS---

William watched from the window as the car pulled out of the parking lot. Finally alone he left his dishes on the table and walked into the bedroom. The tape on his legs was starting to itch and he was glad to remove the curved, thin flasks taped to his calves. While he was at it, he removed the cash he had hidden inside his sock.

Everything was stashed in the duffel bag Tim had already searched and William was dozing in front of the television by the time Tim returned home.


	4. Chapter 4

**a/n - Thanks again for all the great comments. Nope, Tony doesn't know anything about McGee's family, at least not anything important. Will Abby spill the beans? Guess we need someone to ask the right question. I am catching up with myself (note to self, don't work on so many stories at the same time), but I'm still trying to post every day. At times it may be every other day. I'm doing a great deal of research for this story still, reading life experiences of adult children of alcoholics. I"ve never seen my parents drunk, and for that I'm truly blessed.**

Sarah didn't say anything until they pulled up in front of the dorm. "Daddy seemed edgier tonight. Do you know what happened between him and Mom?"

"Dad's the one that called me, not Mom, and he called after he was already on the road." Tim rubbed at his forehead. "I guess he thought I couldn't say no if he was half way here."

"Mom's not answering her phone, so it must have been pretty bad."

"I know. If we haven't heard from her by tomorrow, I'll have the local LEO's do a welfare check at the house."

Sarah smiled slightly as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "I thought we had to wait so many days before we could do something like that."

Tim returned his sister's shy smile. "Sometimes being a federal agent comes in handy." He reached out and took her hand. "It's going to be all right, Sarah, you'll see."

"But he was drinking on the bus?"

"Yep. I took his bottle of bourbon and the flask he had in his pocket and poured them out."

"Okay, that would explain his mood. Was that all the booze he had with him?"

Tim gave a snort as he shook his head. "Hardly, but I wasn't going to strip search him in the parking lot. Right now he's taking the rest of his stash and moving it, probably into a bag I've already searched."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Keep searching, keep finding bits of his stash, keep cutting off his sources until I can keep him sober or get him into rehab." Tim took a deep breath and let it out before he told her the rest. "There's no way that Gibbs is going to give me any time off right now, but tomorrow, I'm applying for an inter-agency transfer. If I know Fornell, he'll jump on it pretty quick just to get at Gibbs. As soon as it's approved I can take all the leave time that I have built up with NCIS. Hopefully by then Dad will have wiped out all his sources for alcohol and be willing to get cleaned up again."

She didn't look convinced, so he reached out and lifted her chin so she was looking at him. "We've been through this before, Sarah. He's got to hit rock bottom before he'll accept help, that's just the way he is."

"I don't have to like it, though."

"Neither do I."

---NCIS---

It only took a few minutes for Tim to load the dishwasher. Sarah had cleaned up as she cooked, so all he was left with were the dishes themselves. His and Sarah's were rinsed and stacked already, but Will's were still in the table and took a bit more scraping before he could finish.

The advantage of his small, one bedroom apartment was the fact that the only bathroom was in the bedroom. After several trips back and forth, his father was so used to his presence that he no longer stirred when Tim entered the room. The suitcase hadn't been disturbed since Tim had carried it in for him, the hair he'd draped across the zipper pull proved that, but the duffel had been opened.

Quietly and methodically, he went through the bag and found the additions. Tim took the flasks into the bathroom and poured the contents into the toilet and flushed it away. The now empty flasks were put back in the bag and the roll of cash was quietly taken out and placed in the safe he'd recently purchased. The safe was added to the apartment when he started seriously working on the new book. It was small, only designed to hold papers, and virtually unnoticeable bolted to the bottom side of his desk. Drained and exhausted, McGee set his alarm and rolled out his sleeping bag.

---NCIS---

The alarm was set for 0500, but it was the crashing sounds at 0430 that brought Tim out of a deep sleep. Knowing the cause and not ready for it that early, he slowly climbed to his feet, rubbing his face. Inside the bedroom the scene was exactly as he suspected. His father was on his knees, the contents of the duffel bag scattered around him as he frantically shook the empty flasks.

"What did you do?"

Tim kept his voice calm. "I told you last night, I have a dry apartment. No Booze, Dad." He reached down and grasped his father's arm at the elbow and wrapped his other arm around his shoulders. It was a struggle, but he eventually got William to his feet. "Come on, Dad. I'll make you some coffee, it's going to be okay."

His alarm went off just as the coffee was finishing, so Tim felt that he wasn't running late. He poured a cup of the strong brew and added the extra sugar to help counteract the tremors he knew would be starting soon. "Dad, I'm going to take my shower real quick and get ready for work. I'll fix you some breakfast as soon as I get out, okay?" He made sure his father's fingers were wrapped around the mug before retreating to the bathroom.

As the shower ran, Will staggered to his feet and opened the refrigerator. Some fried eggs and toast would be good with the coffee.

---NCIS---

Showered and dressed, Tim was just buttoning his cuffs when something tickled his nose. Recognizing the smell of something burning he ignored his shoes and dashed into the kitchen. A skillet on the stove was on fire, the flames dancing almost a foot tall. Before he could stop him, his father picked up the coffee pot and threw the contents onto the fire.

"Dad, no."

As the flames exploded upwards and outwards the coffee also hit the toaster, coming into contact with the hot electric wires. A second later flames shot out of the toaster as it ejected chunks of burning toast. The flaming bread bounced off the paper towel holder before landing on some nearby newspapers, igniting them both and spreading the fire even further. Tim grabbed his father and physically shoved him out of the kitchen before snagging the fire extinguisher. By the time he had it in his hands and ready to use, only a few seconds had passed but it was enough to begin burning the undersides of the kitchen cabinets.

Tim fought back the panic as he put to use all the emergency preparedness classes his job required him to take. By the time the extinguisher was empty, only a few flames were left and he beat those out with a dish towel. Finally he yanked the battery out of the smoke detectors and the sudden silence was almost deafening. The fact that the building wide alarm was not sounding meant that he'd contained the problem in under thirty seconds, but it had been the longest thirty seconds of his life.

Coughing, Tim soaked the towel in his hand and wiped down the scorched areas, checking for hot spots. Once he was convinced that the fire was truly out, he started opening windows and the door, hoping for fresh air.

Will remained on the floor where he'd fallen, but pulled his knees up as he sat. Emergency over, Tim dropped down behind him. "You okay, Dad?"

"I don't understand. I always fix breakfast when I'm home on leave." Will looked around, confused. He stared at Tim, not recognizing him at first. Eventually, he blinked and was back in the moment. "Timmy? What happened, what did I..." He looked up and saw the mess in the kitchen. "Did I do that?"

"You don't remember? Dad, when did you start having blackouts?"

Will shook his head and didn't answer.

"It's going to be okay, Dad. Let's just get you up off the floor." Tim started to lift him, but Will just curled in on himself and started crying. "Dad? What's wrong, are you hurt?"

"Everybody else has given up on me, Timmy. Why haven't you given up on me, too?"

"Oh, Dad." Tim sank back down to the floor to hold his father. In all the years, through all the drunken nights, he'd never seen his father cry. He pulled him close, tucking his dad's head under his chin and rocked him. "You're my father, I'll never give up on you. It's gonna be okay, I promise. I'll take care of it, you'll see."

Will pulled back and shifted around enough that he could look at Tim. He reached out and patted his cheek. "You always take care of it." This time he let Tim help him to his feet.

"That's right, Dad. I'm going to take care of everything. I just need you to not do anything today. Just stay in the apartment and rest, can you do that?" He took his father back into the bedroom and tucked him back into the bed, pillows stuffed behind him, allowing him to sit up in bed. A quick trip back into the kitchen produced a breakfast of cold cereal with milk and a sliced banana. He brought the bowl in and set it on the nightstand.

"I have to go, I'm gonna be late for work. Promise me you'll just rest today, all right? I'll have some food delivered later. Don't touch anything in the kitchen, I have to call my insurance company and the landlord." He bent down to look his father square in the eye. "I mean it, Dad. If somebody messes around in there, they'll think I'm trying to cover something up. That's the way investigations work." Tim didn't move until his father nodded his agreement.

---NCIS---

"Sorry I'm late, had a kitchen fire this morning." McGee was already apologizing before he cleared the elevator. He pulled up short when he saw Gibbs' empty desk. "Where's Gibbs?"

"Getting reamed out by the undersecretary again. What do you mean, kitchen fire?" Tony dropped the files he was working on to take a better look at his teammate, noticing the burned sleeve. "You okay?"

Tim didn't look up as he was booting up his computer. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"McGee, you reek of smoke."

This time he looked up as Ziva came around the corner. "Yeah, that would be from the fire, Ziva." Grateful that he'd picked up Tony's habit of keeping a spare shirt in his desk, he pulled the shirt out of the drawer as he started to unbutton the damaged one he was wearing. Not wanting an audience and needing to clean up more, he changed his mind and turned towards the men's room.

Tony blocked his path, grabbing his hand and turning it to better see the damage. The skin was red with a small blister forming on his palm. Through the holes burned in the fabric he could see that the damage went further up. "Go see Ducky, I'll cover with Gibbs."

He hadn't actually felt the burns until Tony pointed them out, but now he was hurting. "Yeah, okay. Tha... thanks, Tony." Still clutching the replacement shirt, he detoured for the elevator, leaving behind two confused teammates.


	5. Chapter 5

**a/n - Poor Tim and his timing, he doesn't catch a break. Before someone asks, remember, this is set right after Flesh and Blood, so Jack Knife hasn't happened yet. We don't know when Ducky's mother died, but it was early enough in the season that he'd settled the estate by the time it came up on the show. Thanks all.**

Ducky turned the lights on in autopsy and leaned against the wall in exhaustion. It had been a long, difficult night at the nursing home. His mother had not recognized him, believing him to be her late husband and begged him to take her home to her family. It wasn't until the last moments of her life that her mind had cleared enough to know who was holding her hand. "Rest in peace, Mother."

The ding of the elevator signaled that he would have company any moment and Ducky briskly rubbed his eyes and put on his most professional face. Expecting Palmer, he was surprised when McGee walked into the room. "Timothy, what are you doing here? We don't have a case. Do we?"

"Hi Ducky, I got burned this morning and it was easier to come down here than to argue with Tony about it." Tim held his arm up to show the burned fabric covering his right arm.

When he moved closer, the smell of smoke was apparent. "Well, lad, hop up on the table and let's have a look." He watched Tim take his shirt off and climb up on the table, the short delay giving the older man a moment to push down his own grief.

"How did you manage this?"

McGee winced as he explained. "I had a kitchen fire this morning. Guess I got to close to some of the flames when I was using the fire extinguisher."

"Was it a grease or electrical fire?

"Umm, both? Not a good morning, Ducky."

"Apparently not. Well, let's take a better look."

After a quick exam, Ducky proclaimed the injury more painful than serious and moved to pull out the supplies he'd need to treat it. McGee looked around to see if they were alone. "Ducky, can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" Ducky's breath caught as he opened the cabinet that housed the first aid supplies and found his mother's favorite scarf. She had left it behind the last time she had come to the Yard and he'd been meaning to take it to the nursing home with him. Now it was too late.

After a few false starts, Tim just jumped in before he lost his nerve. "How do you determine when a parent's mental deterioration is beyond what you can deal with on your own?" Just as he got the words out, the elevator sounded again.

Ducky's hand reflectively tightened around the paisley silk. "That's a very personal decision, McGee, one... one each son must make on his own. Well, Mr. Palmer, since you are here, I'll let you practice your field dressing skills." Palmer looked surprised to be handed a box of burn dressings before Dr. Mallard walked out, clutching something against his chest.

"Umm, hi, McGee. What was that all about?"

Tim gave a sad smile as he shifted so Palmer could reach his arm easier. "Don't worry about it. I just seem to have that effect on people lately."

---NCIS---

"How much longer do you think the undersecretary will bother Gibbs about your father?" Ziva sat on the edge of Tony's desk. "It is not your fault he is friends with the father of Prince Sayif."

Tony really didn't want to think about it, let alone talk about it and tried to change the subject. "I'd rather know how McSmokey managed to set his kitchen on fire this morning. Do you think he was trying to impress a woman with his cooking skills?"

Ziva smirked, remembering a conversation she'd overheard. "According to a pretty blonde in HR, he doesn't need to cook to impress." As hoped, it distracted him.

"Really? Do tell." He leaned forward to listen intently, but caught sight of their teammate coming into the bullpen. "Do tell me what you think of the lamps Gibbs has in his entry way. Probie, what do you think?"

"What? Why are you asking me?" Tim was struggling with buttoning the cuff over the bulky bandage around his wrist. Ziva reached out and helped him.

"The lamps, Tony does not like them. What about you?"

Embarrassed at needing the help to dress, McGee sat at his desk, slumping down behind the monitor. "How am I supposed to know what they look like?"

"You're an investigator, Probie, don't you pay attention when you're there?"

Tim minimized the transfer application he had just pulled up on his computer as the other two came closer. "When I'm there? Sorry, I've been there once, when Gibbs needed me to hack into the FBI's data base while they were investigating Director Shepard. I didn't really have time to do much looking around before I got dragged into the basement to start working."

The other two exchanged surprised looks before Tony came over to sit on the edge of his desk. "You're serious? That's the only time you've been there?" Tim shrugged as he picked at the edge of the bandage on his arm.

"I'm no... not family, not like you and Ziva, so there's no reason for me to be there."

The DiNozzo early warning system was starting to buzz. "Wait a minute, what do you mean, you're not family?

Tim wouldn't look him in the eye. "Come on, Tony, everybody knows, you're the son he never had, Ziva and Abby are his other daughters, Ducky is everybody's favorite uncle and even Jimmy is the awkward cousin."

"Then what the hell are you?" Tony bent down, trying to see Tim's face better.

"I'm the exchange student that's overstayed his welcome, but everybody's too polite to kick out."

Shocked, Tony moved off the desk to squat next to McGee, resting a hand on his knee. "Come on, man, you don't mean that. You're just having a bad day and your arm's hurting. Why don't you take a personal day? I think you've earned it."

"Nobody's earned anything yet, DiNozzo. You got your reports all done for me?" Gibbs stormed in at a brisk pace and Tony automatically scrambled back to his desk.

"Working on it, Boss."

Ziva spoke up, casually asking her question so Gibbs would know what had happened. "McGee, how much damage did the fire do to your apartment?"

Gibbs took a better look at McGee as the younger man rested his head on his hands. The bandage was visible around his wrist and onto his hand, while the bulk of the rest could be seen by how the fabric of his sleeve was bunched up. Tim sighed as he raised his head back up. "At... at least it was isolated in the kitchen, but I can certainly kiss my security deposits goodbye. I'll know more after the landlord has an appraiser look at it this afternoon."

"Finish the paperwork that won't keep, then if we don't catch a case, you can take the rest of the day, McGee." It seemed a good compromise to the senior agent. Apparently McGee agreed, because he nodded and returned his attention to his computer monitor.

Tim quickly reviewed his already finished case report and then when everyone else was back at work and no longer paying any attention to him, he pulled up his transfer paperwork and went back to work. Two hours later he took a deep breath and clicked on the send button. He watched as the confirmation page came up, signaling the beginning of the end of his career at NCIS. Rather than dwell on how that made him feel, he sent his case report to the printer. Sarah was working the lunch shift at the coffee shop and he needed to let her know what had happened that morning.

"My report, Gibbs."

Gibbs took the folder McGee handed him. "You all right?"

McGee was standing ramrod straight. "Yes, si... Gibbs. Ducky said it was more painful than serious."

"Ducky bandage it up for you?"

"Actually, he had Palmer practice on me."

Tony looked up from his desk. "Practice dummy for the Gremlin? Man, you are really not having a good day, Probie."

"Yeah." Tim bit back a laugh as Tony's words mimicked what he had said to Ducky earlier. "Tell me about it."

Gibbs sent a glare towards the other desk. "More work and less eavesdropping, DiNozzo."

"Hey, I can multitask, Boss."

McGee used the banter as cover to grab his pack and slip out the door, sending a text to his sister as he walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

**a/n - I've caught up with myself, so I can't promise to always have a chapter every day, but I am going to try to keep up the pace as much as possible. A bit of an info dump in this chapter, but I've tried to make it as painless as possible. Sarah's old enough to learn more about her father's addiction and the readers need to know, too.**

Greg Hall watched as Sarah read a text message for the third time. "Problem, Sarah?"

Not used to confessing her family's problems, she hesitated, blinking back tears. Seeing his reassuring smile, she confessed about the message that had upset her. "There was a fire at my brother's apartment."

"How bad?" He moved his wheelchair closer as she prepared to leave the break room.

"Tim claims it wasn't too bad, but Daddy got confused and threw coffee on a grease fire that he started. He said he'd tell me more at lunch."

Greg checked his watch. Sarah had asked for the latest lunch of the shift once she knew Tim was hoping to leave work in time to join her. "He should be here pretty soon. Why don't you fix three of today's lunch specials and we'll eat in my office. It sounds like your father may be showing signs of alcohol induced dementia or psychosis."

"Psychosis? Tim was hoping it was just a blackout." The possibilities he'd just laid out were frightening. "Is my brother in danger being alone with Dad at night?"

This time his smile wasn't quite as reassuring as he'd hoped it would be. "Let's see if we can figure that out over lunch."

---NCIS---

The lunch that had been delivered by the Meals on Wheels volunteer was hot and nutritious, just as Tim hoped it would be when he ordered it. It was also mildly seasoned, fulfilling the needs of most of their elderly clients. To William, it tasted like cardboard. Remembering what his son had begged of him before leaving for work, he choked down as much as he could.

He was doing all right until the dinner roll twisted around into a laughing face and he upended the table to get away from the monster. He blinked and the bread was simply that, once again. Will sat on the floor and stared at it for a long time, daring it to change again. Eventually the need became too much and he pulled his shoe off. The inside lining came apart if you knew where to bend the shoe, leaving just enough space for one folded bill. Removing it, he staggered to his feet to find the nearest liquor store.

---NCIS---

"Tony, is Agent McGee around?"

He looked up as Nikki Jardine stopped in front of his desk. "Why, no, he's left for the day." Giving her his best grin he continued. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Nikki stepped back as he leaned forward. "No, I promised my boyfriend that I'd find out about the car he's selling. Nathan saw it in a consignment lot this morning."

"McGee is selling his car?"

Tony looked back and forth between Nikki and Ziva. "He's wrong. McGee loves that car, he wouldn't be selling it."

She didn't look convinced. "Well, when you see McGee, tell him Nathan is interested if he is selling."

---NCIS---

When McGee arrived at the coffee shop one of the other girls ushered him into the office in the back. Sarah rushed him as he walked through the door. "Tim, you're hurt. What happened?"

He staggered back from the impact. "Sarah, Sarah, I'm okay. It's just a minor burn. Just a couple of blisters that won't even leave a scar."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure. It just meant that I ended up as practice for Palmer." He unbuttoned his cuff and rolled back the sleeve with a little help from his sister. "He used every dressing and every bit of gauze he was given." Tim let her fuss over him as they sat down, before turning to her boss and changing the subject. "I appreciate you helping us, Mr. Hall."

"Wish I could do more. Tell me about the fire this morning." Greg joined them at the work table, cleared off to make room for the food.

Tim began to explain, starting with the finding the hidden stash the night before, to the early wake up call, right through to Will's confusion in the aftermath of the fire. Greg listened thoughtfully through the entire thing before he started asking questions.

"When did your father start drinking, do you remember?"

Sarah gave a bitter laugh. "I don't know of a time when he wasn't. Vodka in lemonade was his drink of choice. You never drank the lemonade because it always had vodka in it." Tim nodded as he gave a little more information.

"When I was six, it became my job to tie his shoes in the morning before he left for duty."

"Because he'd fall if he bent down?"

"Yeah. Mornings were the worse when I was a kid."

"He was hung over, right? Why did everyone on the base let him get away with it?" When Tim hesitated, Sarah pushed him. "I'm not a child anymore, Tim. Stop protecting me and tell me exactly what he was doing."

Reluctantly, he told her. "No. It was because he hadn't started on that day's drinking. The other officers never saw him sober, Sarah." Tim's answer to his sister's question helped the last clue fall into place for Greg.

"He's a delta, or at least he was. Isn't that right?"

"Yeah. Dad didn't start binging until I was in high school, at least not on a regular basis." Tim shrugged his shoulders as he stared down into his coffee. It did help to talk to someone who understood what was going on. "He's losing his mental functions, isn't he?"

"Wait a minute, just wait a minute. What's a delta? You talked to the doctors about that the last time he was in rehab." Sarah's posture told that she was determined to know everything this time. Greg cut in, sparing Tim from the conversation.

"Functional alcoholics are able to still work and carry on in their daily lives, Sarah. Some of them drink heavily or binge at night or on the weekends, while others, like your dad, don't appear intoxicated when they are. They're the ones that are so used to having a certain level of alcohol in their bodies, that they stumble and appear drunk when they're actually suffering from alcohol withdrawal." He looked at the two siblings. "Unfortunately, after many years, the level of alcohol needed is pretty high and when the tolerance gets to be that high, they're prone to develop alcohol induced early onset dementia or psychotic disorder."

Deep down Tim already knew, but it still hurt to hear it said. "Will it improve if he stays sober?"

It wasn't a certainty, and Hall couldn't lie to them. "It's possible. At least the decline would slow significantly if he's sober. The quicker you can get him into a facility, the better."

"Well, that's easier said than done." Tim glanced down, surprised to find his lunch already gone. "The private facilities want a pretty big payment up front, and the non-profits have a waiting list. Hopefully, the FBI will respond quickly to my transfer request and I can take some leave time between the two jobs to watch him more closely."

"Sarah mentioned something about that. Will your new co-workers know about your dad?" Greg had a plan, if McGee would agree to it.

Tim thought about it briefly. He hadn't ever planned on hiding the truth from his team, it had just never come up before they had made their own assumptions about his family. "I'm not going to get 'son of an alcoholic' tattooed on my forehead, but I'm not going to hide it either. Why?"

Greg rolled his chair back and put his elbows on the armrests, clasping his hands loosely in front of him. "There is an FBI agent that attend the Tuesday night meetings of Adult Children of Alcoholics, that's why I suggested she attend that meeting night. He might be a good support person for both of you. Especially Sarah, when you're in the field and unavailable."

"Would he mind? I know the meetings aren't big on last names and personal information."

"I've already spoken to him. Without revealing your names or your agency, of course, Tim. He'd be more than willing to help. He might be able to put a bug in the right person's ear about your transfer, too."

"That would be great." A lost look flickered across Tim's face for a moment. "I... I'd like to get the transfer finished as quickly as possible. It's going to be uncomfortable once my team finds out about the request."

"You're sure about needing to transfer? There's no way to fix the problems at your agency?"

Tim felt a flash of jealousy at his sister for having a boss that would listen and treat her as if she were as important as the rest of the crew. "Honestly, I should have done it a long time ago."

Greg took one of the ACOA pamphlets and dropped it into Tim's open backpack. "Tuesdays, Tim, if you can make it, too, I think it will help you a lot."

He nodded as he stood and checked the time on his phone. "I'll try, but now I've got to get back to the apartment to meet the landlord and the repair guy. Thanks, Mr. Hall, for everything."

---NCIS---

When he found his front door unlocked and only partially latched, McGee was cautious, sweeping the place as he went in. The upturned table was the first clue, along with the scattered remains of the lunch he'd had delivered. It wasn't until he reached the door to the bedroom that he felt safe in letting go of his holstered gun. His father was laying across the bed, fully dressed, an empty bottle next to him. "Damn it, Dad, couldn't you last one day?"

He quickly shifted his father's bulk so that his head was on the pillow before taking his shoes off and covering him with a spare blanket. Not wanting an empty bottle of booze in the recycling for his landlord to see, he shoved it under the bathroom sink before returning to straighten the table and clean the spilled food off the floor. He had just finished scrubbing the dried gravy off the carpet when his landlord knocked, contractor in tow.

After two hours of fussing and complaining, the landlord finally left after agreeing to have the repairs completed over the weekend. One bank of overhead cabinets would be replaced, along with the countertop on the left side of the stove. In exchange for the quick turn-around, McGee would scrub down the soot stains and do the painting himself.

Tim didn't relax until he had locked the door behind the departing men. He knew that he'd gotten off lucky. A fire caused by an hallucinating alcoholic could have gotten him kicked out or sued. After checking one last time that his father was still out cold, Tim stepped outside to call the Iowa State Patrol. His parents had chosen to retire in a small, unincorporated township north of Des Moines. The five acre lots gave a great deal of privacy, but not having close neighbors was a disadvantage at times. The dispatcher promised to have a car check on the house during the next patrol of the area. Tim thanked the man and then as an afterthought gave him Abby's number as a backup, in case he was unavailable.


	7. Chapter 7

**a/n - You guys have been amazing. Thank you for all the review, comments and alerts. Things are still building for Tim and his family, while Tony continues to worry.**

Scrubbing the brick wall until midnight and then sleeping on the floor made for a restless night and Tim woke up exhausted. He did get his father up long enough to eat something, so he felt he'd accomplished something by the time he arrived at work. Leaving his backpack and coat at his desk, Tim made a quick run downstairs.

"Morning, Abs, can you help me with something real quick?" Tim dropped a bag of first aid supplies on the table just in time to brace himself for a flying hug.

"McGee, oh McGee, I've been so worried about you." She pulled back far enough to see the bandages on his arm. "Oh my God, oh my God, what happened? Are you all right? How bad is it? Did you go to the hospital? Why didn't you tell me?"

"A kitchen fire, yes, not bad, no and I'm trying to." His smile was earnest, so the whack she gave his arm was only half-hearted.

"I'm serious, McGee. What happened?" She looked around and lowered her voice. "Did your dad do this?"

Tim looked around, too, before answering her. "Dad... he got confused yesterday and tried to put out a grease fire with coffee. Honestly, it's not that bad, Palmer just went a little overboard with the gauze."

Abby started helping his remove the layers wrapped around his arm. "Confused or drunk? Come on, Tim, please tell me."

He thought about it for a second, adding it up in his head. "He hadn't had anything to drink for eight, maybe nine hours. He gets... clumsy when he's drying out."

She froze, eyes narrowing as she studied him. "Clumsy as in tripping over his own feet or clumsy as in you're going to start walking into doors when he's around?"

Tim didn't answer as he peeled the gel dressings off the burns. Seeing the injured area distracted Abby for the moment. "Ouch, that might not be too bad, but I bet it hurt."

Abby wouldn't let him leave until she had extracted a promise that he would check in every day, but he still made it upstairs before the start of the workday. Gibbs looked up as he came in, noticing the fresh and less bulky bandages.

"You got that checked this morning?"

Tim kept his head down as he returned to his desk, wondering if Gibbs would have many questions. "Just came from there."

Gibbs gave a nod in return. As long as Ducky was on top of it, then he didn't need to worry.

The thoughts of both men were interrupted as DiNozzo came sweeping in, dancing to the tune in his head. "It's Friday and we have the weekend off."

"Somebody is in a good mood this morning. Who do you have planned, Tony?"

Tony grinned as he arrived at his desk. "The question would be 'what do I have planned' Ziva, not who." Even Gibbs had to snort at that one.

"I think she had it right the first time, DiNozzo."

"You wound me, Boss." Tony fell into his chair, clutching at his chest. "Probie, my wing man, you're going with me, right? Watch the great DiNozzo in action?"

"Sorry, Tony, I am spending the weekend scrubbing and painting. Have fun, though." Tim didn't look up, so he didn't see the worry that flashed across Tony's face.

"It's not going to take all weekend, is it?"

Ziva tried to be practical. "We could come help you, McGee. That would get it done much quicker. After all we are a team."

He was not expecting the offer, and when Tim looked up, Tony and Ziva were both looking at him, hopeful looks on their faces. He scrambled for an excuse, knowing he couldn't have them at his apartment with his father there. "Thanks, guys, but Sarah has already given up her weekend to help me and..."

"Sibling bonding time? Guess we can't compete with that, Ziva."

Tim watched as Tony's hopeful expression shifted to a sad one. "Sorry, guys. Maybe next weekend we're not on call, we can have a movie night."

---NCIS---

Will tried to go back to sleep like he promised Tim, but his skin was crawling. Pacing helped for a while, but as the morning went on, the cravings became stronger. After wearing himself out, he threw himself into Tim's desk chair and started poking at the contents of the desk. Scribbled notes, receipts and a pipe were looked at before being tossed aside. In the second drawer on the left side, he struck paydirt. A box of checks, already opened, was tossed in the back of the drawer. Will tore a handful of checks out of the bottom set before replacing everything in the desk.

He carefully shaved and dressed before leaving the apartment. He didn't have a key, so he left the door unlocked. The clerks at the closest store would know Tim, so he walked as far as he could before stopping at a busy grocery store. The selection was limited, but he found bottles of fortified wine that would work. Will watched and chose the checkout line with the most harried looking clerk, before smiling politely at her and signing his name, T. W. McGee on one of his son's checks. The frazzled clerk never looked twice at him as she ran the check through. In less than an hour he was back at the apartment with his purchase.

---NCIS---

After all the help Greg Hall had given him over the years, Ron Sacks didn't argue when the man asked him to swing by the coffee shop. They saw each other every Tuesday night, but apparently this couldn't wait. When he walked in, Greg pointed out one of the handicapped accessible tables before speaking to a pretty barista.

By the time Sacks had his coat off and was in a chair, Greg was rolling across the floor to join him. No small talk, Greg jumped right in. "One of my girls and her brother are going to joining the Tuesday night group." Ron knew there was more so he waited. It wasn't a huge surprise. "Her brother is an agent and you know how hard that is. He could use a little extra support right now."

Ron let out a long breath. Greg was right, it was hard to be in law enforcement when you had an alcoholic parent. The expectations were greater, as if by waving his badge his father would stop drinking, not to mention those who expected him to hit the bottle anytime a case went bad. "I'll do what I can."

"Thanks, Ron." Greg waved over the pretty girl he'd been speaking to when Sacks walked in. "Let me introduce you to Sarah."

---NCIS---

William hated fortified wine, he hated the taste, hated the way it coated his throat, and right now he hated the fact that his son had driven him to this point. As he drank straight from the bottle, he started going through Tim's clothes, looking for loose change in the pockets. If he wanted anything decent to drink, he was going to have to take the Metro downtown to get to a liquor store.

The first time there was a knock, he didn't hear it. The second time, he ignored it, trying to reach the quarter he saw under the bed. The third knock was loud enough that he hit his head on the bed frame. Cursing, Will stumbled to his feet and made his way to the door, throwing it open just as the petite woman was preparing to knock a fourth time.

"Who are you, what in the hell do you want?"

In the face of such anger, she stepped back instinctively. "Umm hello, Mr..." She glanced down at the label on the box in her hand. "Mr. McGee, I'm Sharon with Meals on Wheels; I have your lunch."

"Lunch? What you gave me yesterday wasn't fit for a dog." He took the box from her and threw it, laughing as she ran. "Get out of here and don't come back." Still clutching the bottle in his other hand, Will went back inside the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

---NCIS---

A short rap on the door frame brought Tobias Fornell's head up as he tossed his pen on the desk top, grateful for the break. "What's up, Ron?"

"You got a minute?" As soon as Fornell nodded, Sacks came in, closing the door behind him. Instead of sitting in one of the chairs across from Fornell, Ron sat on the edge of his desk. "Timothy McGee."

Fornell leaned back in his chair. "Gibbs' computer guru? What about him?"

"He's filed an application to transfer to the FBI. Since Carl is taking over the field office in Denver..."

"We'll have no one left in our office with any serious computer experience." Fornell finished his sentence with a smile, already checking his own computer for the application. After a few minutes he looked up. "Are you sure about him? I'm not seeing anything in the files."

Ron resisted telling Tobias that this was a perfect example of why they needed the computer expert on the team. "Maybe it's still being processed. He just made the request yesterday."

"Then how do you know about it?"

"Greg Hall mentioned it. McGee and his kid sister are going to start joining us on Tuesdays." Sacks waited while Fornell put the pieces together. It didn't take long.

"I would have expected DiNozzo to be joining you on Tuesdays before McGee. Does Tuesdays have anything to do with the transfer request?" While he was talking, Fornell accessed the files he could on McGee. He'd always been impressed with the young man's skills both behind the computer and lately, out in the field.

Sacks shrugged, he and Sarah had actually spent several hours talking. He'd heard a great deal, but knew that Fornell and Gibbs were friends. "Let's just say that the kid's tired of the favoritism."

Fornell wasn't quite ready to let it go. "I'm well aware of Gibbs' many faults. Sharing an ex-wife gave me a rather unique perspective. You took three hours this morning, I'm sure you heard more than that."

"Yeah, I did, but it was told in confidence. Let's just say if I were McGee, I'd want out of there, too." He frowned, chewing on his lip before admitting the rest. "And, when it comes down to it, I'd rather have my old man than his."

"That bad?"

"Yeah, that bad. He needs some help right now, Tobias, but long term he'll be a great asset. I don't have to tell you that."

"Gibbs will be pissed."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Ron raised an eyebrow and waited for an answer.

Fornell had to laugh. "Okay, I'll make it happen."

---NCIS---

Tim McGee was reviewing the last of the files on his desk when his cell rang. He recognized the number for the Meals on Wheels coordinator and cautiously answered, groaning when he heard that his father was being removed from the program for the safety of their volunteers. He could do nothing but apologize and tell her that he understood.

That call had just ended when the Iowa State Patrol called. His parent's home was locked tight and secure, with no cars in the driveway or the garage. They were willing to do a weekly check, but until there was evidence of a crime, they would not enter the house. Of course the patrolman looked in the windows. No, there was nothing out of place. Tim thanked them for their assistance and ended that call before quietly issuing a BOLO on the family car and a trace on any credit card activity.

Across from him, Tony watched as he pretended to work on the last of his paperwork. He couldn't hear either end of the conversations, but he could see how upset the calls had made McGee. Ziva looked at him and shrugged. She, too, was baffled by what was going on. Tony wished that Gibbs had been present for the calls, but he was up in Vance's office along with one of the undersecretaries and the Saudi ambassador. The weekend couldn't come fast enough for any of them.


	8. Chapter 8

**a/n - Nice big chapter today, I hope you enjoy it. Wow, the reviews, you guys are amazing and absolutely make my day.**

Tony and Ziva left the second the work day was considered finished. Tim left also, but only to go downstairs to wish Abby a good weekend and to promise to stay safe. Once he felt the coast was clear, he returned to his desk to check on the BOLO and to began researching involuntary commitments and the legal requirements.

Finally able to put the entire Prince Sayif mess to bed once and for all, Gibbs took the stairs two at a time as he returned to the bullpen. He was ready for the weekend off as much as his team was, or at least most of them. "McGee, what are you still doing here?"

Tim quickly shut down the window and moved to pull the pages off the printer. "Just finishing up, Gibbs. Have a good weekend."

"You too, McGee. Family still in town?" Gibbs frowned when Tim stiffened and walked out without answering. He thought about using the stairs, if he ran he could beat the elevator down, but the printer McGee had been using spit out one last piece of paper. Curious, Gibbs pulled the page out of the machine. It was blank except for a URL on the bottom. The web address was long with a string of letters and numbers. Gibbs stuck it in his desk drawer to look at later.

---NCIS---

Tony had left Headquarters with a printout of his own, but his gave him the names and addresses of every car lot within fifty miles that took cars in on consignment. He started in Silver Spring, close to McGee's apartment and started working outwards from there. At the sixth lot Tony hit paydirt, and found himself standing in front of a familiar and formerly coveted silver Porsche Boxster. A salesman spotted him and came over.

"It's a beauty, isn't it? I'm Todd, by the way." He held his hand out and Tony shook it automatically.

"Yeah, what can you tell me about it?" Tony barely listened as the salesman rattled off things he already knew about the car. Finally, he broke into the man's prattle. "So, it's here on consignment? Do you know why the owner's selling it?"

Todd made a show of looking around. "Well, I'm not supposed to say anything, but I got the impression that he's having some financial trouble. You can probably talk him down quite a bit on the price."

"Thanks, Todd, I'll keep that in mind." Tony couldn't get away from the slick salesman fast enough, not knowing what bothered him more; the fact that Todd was so willing to cut the price so much to make the sale, or the fact that McGee was in financial trouble and hadn't said anything. Somehow he was going to get to the bottom of the problem.

---NCIS---

Tim hung his head as he surveyed the mess outside his apartment door. After the phone call he wasn't surprised, but it still hurt to see the evidence of how irrational his father was at times. The neighbor from down the hall came out to join him. "It was like that when I got home. Do you want me to call and report it to the manager? It must have been some troublemakers running through the complex."

"No, that's alright." He bent down and started picking up the big pieces. "I'll take care of it, myself." It took almost an hour to clean every sticky spot off the walls, floor and steps.

Will watched without saying a word as his son scrubbed the textured cement until all the dried soup was out of each crevice. Tim was silent, too, as he dumped the rags and brushes into the sink and stared at the kitchen walls. He still had another day of scrubbing before he could think about painting. Since the contractor was due to arrive at noon to tear out the damaged cabinets, it meant another long night. Already tired, Tim leaned against the counter. Some days it felt like his entire life had been devoted to cleaning up after his father.

An hour into watching Tim scrub the brick wall, Will finally spoke. "I'm hungry, I didn't get any damn lunch."

"That was your choice. I could say, next time don't throw your food at the volunteer, but there won't be a next time." Frustrated, Tim tossed the brush and rag back into the sink as he turned around. "Congratulations, Dad, you're the first client to get kicked out of the program in less than twenty four hours. Guess from now on, you're going to have to make do with a cold lunch until I get home from work."

"Sarah can come cook for me."

"No. Sarah has school and her job. She doesn't have time to come fix you your lunch." Tim watched closely to see his father's reaction. "She's not Mom. She's not going to bow to your every wish. By the way, have you talked to Mom?"

Will stiffened as he stared at his hands. "Why would I talk to her? She kicked me out, remember?"

"How come she kicked you out this time?" Tim came closer and rested one hand on the back of his dad's chair, the other on the table in front of him. "What was different about this time, Dad?"

"Why don't you ask her?"

"I'd like to, but that's the problem, Dad. Nobody's seen her since the two of you split up." Tim didn't back down, but years of alcohol had made William an expert at covering his emotions. He sat stone-faced as he son questioned him. Tim finally shook his head as he straightened up. "Eventually, I'm going to find out what happened between the two of you."

"That's none of your damn business."

Finally a reaction, as Tim continued to study him. He carried on as if he hadn't been interrupted. "But this weekend we're going to concentrate on getting you dried out." Tim moved into the bedroom and started searching it. The empty bottle was under the bed. A careful exam of the closet produced two more bottles, this time full. The fortified wine left a stain in the bathroom sink, one more thing to scrub.

---NCIS---

Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, but Tim wasn't sure if it was the sun or the telephone that woke him. Rolling over, he grabbed the phone before it could wake his father asleep in the bedroom. He rubbed his eyes as he answered, deciding if it were Gibbs rescinding the weekend off, there had better be terrorists inside the Navy Yard, otherwise he'd just quit on the spot.

"Yeah, McGee."

_Rise and shine, Probie. It's probably the last weekend of good weather we're going to see for ages. No self respecting college student is going to be up this early, so let's go shoot some hoops before Sarah comes over. I'll even treat you to breakfast since you can't cook until the repairs are done. What do you say?_

"Tony, I appreciate the offer, but I can't." Tim let his head fall back onto the floor.

_You know, I'm really trying here._

The most painful part was that Tim knew he was trying, and knew how much his rejection was hurting his friend. "I'm sorry, Tony, I really can't."

---NCIS---

Sitting on a basketball, Tony leaned back against his car as he listened to the voice on the phone. Tim hadn't sounded this bad since the Benedict shooting. He tried again. "You know, I'm really trying here."

_I'm sorry, Tony, I really can't._

He had to know. "Damn it, Tim, what's going on? You're in some kind of trouble, aren't you?"

_I'm not... I can't..._

"Can't or won't?" Tony was just about ready to leave the park and go knock some sense into his partner.

_I can't, Tony._

A sick feeling gripped at Tony's stomach. "Is someone threatening you, threatening Sarah?"

_It's not what you think, but I can't talk about it. I'll... I'll see you Monday_.

Tony sat and stared at his phone for a long time after the call ended.

---NCIS---

Tim tossed the phone to the side and rubbed at his stinging eyes for a moment before climbing off the floor. He got the sleeping bag stowed away and took a quick shower before starting the task of getting his father up for the day. After the kitchen fire, he wasn't going to let his dad out of his sight until he'd hit the forty- eight hour mark. If he could keep the old man sober through Sunday night, it would be the first milestone in the latest journey to sobriety.

Between the people he worked with and the suspects they captured, McGee had become an expert in letting attitude roll off his back, but even his patience was tested that morning as his father sat and glared, watching him finish the last of the clean up before the repairs were started. Other than a sub-vocal stream of swear words that never seemed to stop, William was uncommunicative for most of the morning.

Some careful timing meant that Tim finished his part of the job about forty-five minutes before the repairman was scheduled to arrive, just in time to fix lunch for himself and his father. The midnight run to the store was worth it when he set his father's favorite sandwich down in front of him. Rich black bread layered with pesto mayonnaise, Havarti cheese and a thick pile of honey cured ham had always been Will's favorite lunch. Adding spicy chips and an oversized pickle to the plate kept him distracted while the old cabinets were being removed.

---NCIS---

"Hey, Ziva." Tony gave a weak wave as she walked up to him at the bar. The club was one where they often met. It was halfway between their two apartments and had a laid back atmosphere. She ordered a drink and they moved to a nearby booth.

"Tony." She watched him out of the corner of her eye while she waited for her drink. Once they sat down, she turned her full attention to him. "You do not look happy."

He shrugged as he played with the rim of his glass. "I tried to get McGee to shoot some hoops with me this morning."

"I do not think McGee is the hoop shooting type."

"Well, see, that's where you're wrong, Ziva. When you were... gone over the summer, we started playing one on one at least once a week. For a geek, he was getting pretty good."

Ziva frowned as she thought about what he had said. "How many times have you played since we returned from Somalia?

"We haven't." Tony shrugged again as he explained. "I mean we've tried, but every time we plan on it, something comes up."

"But yet, when I was gone you and he managed to play every week?"

"Yeah."

He looked so morose, but Ziva tried to get him back on target. "So what came up today?"

The third shrug told Ziva just how frustrated he was. "I don't know. He just kept saying 'I can't', but he... God, Ziva, he sounded like he's lost his best friend in the world, and I don't know how to help him. I don't even understand why he hiding it from us."

---NCIS---

As the afternoon wore into the evening, Will became more and more jumpy as he paced the small apartment. Tim watched with growing concern.

"How you doing, Dad?"

Will froze, staring at a crate of various cords sitting on Tim's work bench.

"Dad?"

He shook his head, still staring at the crate. "Snakes... SNAKES..."

As Will lost control, Tim grabbed him before he could hurt himself, pulling him away from the tools hanging over the bench. "Dad, it's okay."

"No, no, no, get them off of me." He propelled himself backwards, unaware when he slammed Tim into the corner of the bookcase.

Tim hung on, not letting his father hurt himself. They went backwards into the bookcase before stumbling back against the wall. Hitting the brick surface knocked the wind out of him, but he managed to not let go as he and his father slid to the floor. "There's no snakes, I promise, they're not real."

After a few more minutes, William quieted and then stilled. Tim continued to rock him until there was some signs of recognition.

"Timmy? Why are we on the floor?"

"Dad, do you remember what happened?"

Will's forehead creased as he tried to remember. "Did the contractor leave already?"

The day's work had been done by 1400, and it was now 2100. "Yeah, Dad, he's already gone. It's late, let's get you into bed." Wincing at the pain in his back and side, Tim took a deep breath and levered his father off the floor. The older man docilely allowed himself to be led into the bedroom and prepared for bed as if he were a child. He looked up as Tim was tucking the blankets around him, seeing the blood on his face for the first time.

"Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to, I never mean to hurt anyone."

Tim's hand involuntarily went to his face, touching the rapidly swelling lip that had been split open when Will had been lost in his waking nightmare. "It's okay... Dad, did you hurt Mom?"

There was no answer but a soft snore as Tim moved to the chair to watch his father sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**a/n - Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, hope you all had a good Easter. The situation continues to build, and today we see a little bit of what makes Gibbs tick. Too bad he doesn't realize it, himself, on a conscious level.**

After an uncomfortable night sleeping in the chair, Tim waited until it was late enough to catch the start of the shift for the state patrol substation nearest his parent's house. In such a sleepy area of the state, it took his status as a federal agent to get them to actually force the door open on a Sunday morning to do a room by room search, but the shift commander finally agreed.

While he waited for the call back, Tim dug through the boxes that housed his kitchen supplies and eventually found his coffee maker. Since most of the kitchen didn't have a countertop at the moment, he set it up on the table, getting water from the shower since the carafe didn't fit under the bathroom faucet. The familiar scent of brewing coffee barely roused his father who immediately rolled over and covered his head with the pillows.

The call back, when it came, should have been reassuring. A search of the McGee family home had found nothing out of place, no body and no signs of a struggle, only an unmade bed in an otherwise pristine house.

---NCIS---

Sarah arrived after her early morning shift at the coffee shop with a box of pastries just as Tim was ending the call from Iowa. After looking carefully at his still swollen lip, she listened to what he told her about the search and relaxed. "Well we certainly know he didn't clean up a crime scene. Daddy hasn't rinsed his own coffee cup, let alone actually cleaned as long as I can remember." She poured herself a cup of the fresh coffee and snagged her favorite pastry before settling cross-legged in the computer chair. "Have you really kept him sober since Friday?"

"So far." The siblings tapped their cups together in a silent celebration of the event, half way to the goal.

"Do you have to be here when they install the new cabinets?"

He hadn't really thought about it yet. "No, in fact it would probably be better if Dad wasn't here, it'll be pretty noisy and smelly, at least to him. Why?" Tim was sitting pretty straight in his chair, the bruises not letting him comfortably lean back.

"Maybe we could take him to the park for a picnic, at least get him out in the fresh air." She started picking at her cherry danish. "You know, remind him what it's like to be a family."

"Okay." Tim reached out and squeezed her hand. "Okay, let me see if I can get him up."

---NCIS---

"Hey, Boss." Tony walked up the to where Gibbs was raking leaves.

Gibbs looked up and pointed to the plastic bag on the lawn, already half full of dead leaves. Tony automatically held it open as Gibbs scooped. "What's on your mind, DiNozzo?"

"I'm worried about McGee, Boss. Something's wrong." He tied the bag and tossed it in the pile with the rest.

Gibbs gave him a troubled look. "Why, has he said something to you?" Yard finished, he leaned the rake against the wall and led Tony into the house.

Tony threw himself into the nearest chair once they reached the kitchen. "No, he hasn't, that's the problem."

"It's a problem that he doesn't have a problem?"

"There's a problem, all right." Tony ran his hands through his hair as he watched Gibbs lean against the counter. "First, there was the fire at his apartment, and now he's selling his car. When I asked him to tell me what was going on, he said that he can't tell me. Not that he wouldn't, that he can't tell me."

Gibbs wished he'd taken the time to check out the web page McGee had been printing up before he left. "People sell cars, DiNozzo. It's not the end of the world."

"He loves that car. It was the one real splurge he gave himself when his book made it big. According to the salesman at the car lot, he's in money trouble and needs to sell it in a hurry. I went past his place this morning, he's driving this ancient, crappy old Honda that's even worse than that old junker he had when he first joined the team."

"Okay, I'll check on him. Happy?"

---NCIS---

It was a struggle, but eventually Tim had his father up and dressed. William stopped swearing at him when Sarah set a cinnamon roll down in front of him along with a cup of extra sweet coffee. Between the two of them they cajoled Will into going down to the neighborhood park with them just as the crew arrived with the new cabinets and countertop.

Parking was difficult, and they soon discovered a youth soccer game was underway. Tim bought hot dogs and sodas, adding cotton candy at the last minute. Remembering his father's serious attempts to attend his soccer games as a child, Tim steered them to the bleachers. "Hey, Dad, do you remember when I played soccer?

This was the first Sarah had heard about it. "You? Soccer?"

"Laugh it up, squirt." Laughing, himself, Tim nudged her with his shoulder. "I'll have you know I made the winning goal in my second game." He looked over, hoping his father would pick up on the second half of the old joke.

William smiled, lost in the memory. "I remember that, it was a great goal. Too bad it was for other team."

"Tim! I can't believe you did that." Sarah started laughing as she swatted her brother's arm. He laughed again as he wrapped his other arm around his father's shoulders.

"Good times, Dad, good times. Do you remember Coach Harold?"

His mind momentarily clear, Will grasped at the memory. "Petty Officer Harold Smythe, caught in the equipment shed after practice with the Admiral's pretty new trophy wife."

"Yep, that was the end of our season. Instead of going to the championships, we..." Tim waited to see what more his father would remember.

"We went camping? Yes, that's right, I was stationed in California and we camped on the beach." Will grinned as the memories gained strength.

Sarah was listening, brow furrowed. "On the beach? Was that when Uncle Mike and Aunt Nancy went with us?"

"And you, young lady." Will reached across Tim and pointed at his daughter with a smile. "You hit your cousin, Bobby, in the nose."

She took her father's hand and squeezed it as she blinked back tears, thrilled to see a glimpse of the man, not the alcohol. "He hit Tim first. Nobody hurts my big brother. You taught us that, we always take care of each other."

---NCIS---

Gibbs parked in one of the visitor spaces as he checked the apartment number he'd pulled from McGee's file. The door was open and he stepped inside. "McGee, you here?"

One of the workmen looked up from where he was working on the countertop. "If you're looking for the tenant, he's not here."

"Yeah, I can see that. Any idea where he would be?"

"Said something about the park." The voice seemed to float up from the floor and Gibbs leaned over the breakfast bar to see a pair of legs sticking out from under the sink. There was a pause and a lanky young man crawled out, wiping his hands on his shirt. "Said the noise was really going to bother his dad, so they were going to be down at the park for a while. Asked us to leave the fan running and open all the windows, too. Guess the old man doesn't like the smells."

Gibbs gave the room the sniff test. He didn't find the smell of the caulk that offensive, and the smell of the rubbing alcohol they were using to clean it barely tickled his nose. "Okay, thank you."

There was only one nearby park, and it was crowded. Gibbs had to park a block away and walk back. He wished he'd asked more details about the car Tony claimed McGee had purchased for himself, as crappy and ancient wasn't much of a description. There were several Hondas in the parking lot that fit the bill, but most had signs of children in them. As usual, Gibbs could feel the back of his neck tighten up as he walked past the cars with their booster seats and toys, with the remains of snacks scattered across the back seats. Signs of happy families, still together were always hard, but never more so than the month of Kelly's birthday.

Finally, he spotted on old Honda with a peeling paint job and rust holes in the lower edges of the fenders, but the inside was freshly scrubbed and what paint that was left on the outside had been waxed and polished. The hood was still warm to the touch, so he knew the car had recently arrived. He didn't need a DMV check to know this was the right vehicle and headed for the nearest entrance to the park, knowing that he was now following McGee's path.

A sign near the entrance proclaimed the Seventh Annual Silver Spring Youth Soccer Two Day Tournament explained the crowds. A little red-headed girl on one of the teams caught his attention and Gibbs watched as she scored a goal, her father on the sidelines, cheering her on. Something in the stands above her caught his eye and he looked up to see his agent, arm around his father. The two men were laughing and apparently teasing Sarah from the look of the finger their father was waggling at her. As Gibbs watched, she reached out and took his hand, laughing along with the men. The perfect little family. The seat next to dad was empty and Gibbs looked around for a glimpse of mom, but there were too many grandmothers there, rooting for their grandchildren.

Gibbs turned and left, angry at DiNozzo for this wild goose chase, but most of all angry at McGee and his perfect little family. He didn't want to see it, didn't want to admit how much he envied William McGee. Over thirty years with the same woman by his side. Two loving, attentive children to be proud of. Grandchildren in his future. Hell, he would lay odds on the family home having a white picket fence around it, with a perfect garden, lovingly tended to, like Shannon had tended to her garden.

---NCIS---

Pepperoni pizza with extra cheese rounded out the family day Tim and Sarah had tried to create for their father. Both men laughed as they watched Sarah strip the pepperoni off and added a concoction that made even William shudder with a smile. Seeing his smile, she had to up the ante by trying to get her brother to eat a slice of pizza her way. The revolted expression on Tim's face made their father start laughing, and by the time she was successful in getting a bite of 'Sarah's Special' down her brother, William was laughing so hard he had tears running down his face.

Will tired quickly, so his children cleaned up and Tim prepared to take Sarah back to the dorm. She threw her arms around her father's neck and hugged him tight. "I've missed you so much, Daddy." He returned the hug, knowing exactly what she meant, and it had nothing to do with the time between visits.

"I've missed you, too, Babygirl."


	10. Chapter 10

**a/n - A little shorter chapter after a couple of long ones, but this one had to end here. (why, yes, I am evil. Thank you for noticing.) Enjoy.**

Tim had just climbed out of his sleeping bag when his phone rang. The display showed 'Gibbs' and the young man groaned. He'd hoped to call and leave a voice mail citing the need for a day off, but now it looks like the request was going to have to be direct. "McGee."

_Need everyone in early, McGee. Tip line caught a weapons deal going down this morning. We need all hands on deck._

"Damn it." As soon as he'd uttered the words, he hoped they'd been soft enough that Gibbs hadn't heard them.

_Problem, McGee?_

"I've got a situation here and was going to call in for the day." Situation barely covered it. This was a critical day of sobriety for his father and he didn't want him to face it alone.

_Anybody dying?_

"Well, no, but..."

_Your team is expecting you to watch their backs, not some strange agent they've never worked with. I expect you here in an hour with everybody else._

"Yeah, sure, I'm on my way." Even Gibbs couldn't ignore the depressed tone.

_Hey, I'll let you leave as soon as the paperwork's done. That's the best I can do. One hour, McGee._

There was no point in thanking him for that small favor, he was already talking to a dial tone.

His shower was quick enough that the water didn't have time to warm up, and less than ten minutes later he was bending down, waking his father. "Dad, I need you to wake up for a minute, okay? Dad?"

Confused green eyes, so much like his own, opened slowly and blinked. "Timmy? What..."

I'm sorry, Dad, I have to go to work."

"But I thought..."

"We're going after some stolen weapons. The team needs me, but I'll be back as soon as I can. I just need you to stay strong today. Can you do that?"

Will nodded, his eye drawn to the weapon already strapped to his son's side. Tim was so careful around his father, locking his gun away the second he walked in the door, that this was the first time the older man had seen it. "You be careful, too."

Tim bent and kissed his father's forehead. "I'll call."

---NCIS---

Vance waited until the briefing was done before pulling McGee to the side. "My office, now."

"Everything okay, Probie?" Tim didn't answer as he followed Vance out of the bullpen. The early morning calls he'd made to Sarah and Abby had been difficult enough. He didn't want to deal with Tony and Vance at the same time, and the Director was non-negotiable.

DiNozzo watched as his teammate followed Vance up the stairs before turning to Gibbs. "Boss?"

"He's fine, DiNozzo. Leave him be." Gibbs turned to check out the weapons they would need from the armory, leaving DiNozzo and Ziva alone in the bullpen.

"You are still concerned, yes?"

"Yeah, I am. He won't talk to me, Ziva." Tony double checked his weapon, just to keep his hands busy. "When have we ever not been able to get McGee to talk to us?"

She thought about his question. "Perhaps I should get coffee."

"What?"

"Yes, I believe that would be the best option." Ziva rolled her eyes at Tony's baffled look. "His sister works at a coffee place near the campus. If something is wrong, she will be worried also. Perhaps she will speak to me about it."

---NCIS---

McGee stood in front of Vance's desk, waiting. He was pretty sure he knew what this was about, after all, there had been plenty of time for his request to be processed. Sure enough, Vance laid a printed copy of the transfer paperwork out on the desk surface.

"This tells me everything but why. Why do you want to leave NCIS? Don't give me some bull about more opportunities at the FBI."

That was going to be his official reason, instead he settled for a half truth. "I just want a fresh start, Sir."

"What has DiNozzo done now?"

Tim had been looking over Vance's shoulder during the discussion, but now he looked the man straight in the eye in shock. "What? No, this has nothing to do with Tony, or with Ziva. This is about what I need to do for me."

Vance couldn't help notice the glaring absence in McGee's words. "You're not the first person to butt heads with Gibbs. That doesn't mean you have to leave the agency. There's a lot of other teams, a lot of other positions here at NCIS that could use an agent with your skills and experience."

"I appreciate that, Sir, but the truth of the matter is that the MCRT is the top team at Headquarters, therefore, the top team in the agency. Any move to another posting would be looked at as a demotion, and I haven't done anything wrong. Like I said, I just want a fresh start."

Director Vance wasn't quite ready to give up. "If you haven't done anything wrong, has Gibbs?" There was only silence, which didn't surprise him. "All right, McGee, I'll handle the paperwork personally. If you change your mind or want to discuss other options, my door's open."

"Thank you, Sir." The words were barely out of his mouth before McGee was out of the office. Vance carefully looked over the paperwork again. He had two weeks to process it at his end, with any luck that would give him enough time to get to the bottom of what had gone wrong with his best team.

---NCIS---

William poked at the leftover pastries that Sarah had brought the day before. Nothing looked appetizing that morning and the coffee was bitter no matter how much sugar he added. He abandoned the food and began pacing in the small apartment, avoiding the workbench and the box of cords that had turned into snakes only a few days ago. It was windy, and the howling set his nerves even more on edge. He tried to ignore the sound of the wind, but eventually he couldn't because the wind was whispering his name.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it." He dropped to his knees, covering his ears as he rocked back and forth. He could see into the bedroom, darkened by the heavy curtains and watched a figure form and come out of the shadows. "Julia? Is that you?" She pointed at him before vanishing back into the gloom. Will scrambled to his feet and rushed into the bedroom to turn on the light, but the room was empty. Still confused and disorientated, he ended up in a corner, once again on the floor.

---NCIS---

Gibbs reached up and touched the mike button on his collar. "McGee, you in position?

_Affirmative._

"David?"

_In position, Gibbs._

He looked to his left, where he could see DiNozzo, who nodded. They were all ready, McGee was at the back door of the warehouse, Ziva had entered the next unit over in the complex and climbed up into the rafters and over. He and Tony were at the large roll up door in the front. Gibbs cut the lock as he gave the command to move in.

At the back door, McGee set off a small explosive charge on the door, blasting it open and distracting the hostiles while Gibbs and Tony rolled under the partially open loading dock door. The firefight was brief, but intense before two of the suspects dropped their weapons and surrendered. The third tossed a flash-bang grenade into the back hall, before running into the hallway, firing indiscriminately. From her vantage point, Ziva could not take a shot, but a second later three shots from a SIG echoed back.

Gibbs and DiNozzo quickly slapped the handcuffs on their suspects before Gibbs approached the now quiet hall. "McGee? McGee?" He edged around the corner, weapon at the ready, as glass from a shattered interior window crunched beneath his feet. "Damn it, I need a medic in here, McGee's hit."


	11. Chapter 11

**a/n - Here it is, so everybody can breathe, for now. (Oh, look, was that a clue that just flew by?) Enjoy today's chapter.**

Sarah took a deep breath and crossed her fingers before unlocking the door to her brother's apartment. This was her second trip here today, the first had been to pick up his final revisions and drop them off to his publisher. This time she was bringing lunch to her father. With any luck, having her drop in several times today would help Will fight the urges to drink. "Hey, Daddy."

Will looked up from where he was sitting at the table, a white knuckled grip on his cup as he bounced his knee with nervous energy. "Hey, sweetheart, shouldn't you be in class?" She held up the bag she was carrying.

"Brought you lunch." She moved into the bedroom doorway, hearing the television as a breaking news bulletin interrupted the game show that had been playing. A harried looking reporter, pushing her hair back out of her face was reporting on a gun battle between federal agents and a gang of weapons smugglers. Behind the reporter she recognized DiNozzo as he rushed past, clearing the path as Gibbs followed him, supporting a bloodied figure. "Oh, my God, that's Tim. Daddy, that's Tim." She ignored the reporter's words as she prattled on, instead focusing on her brother's image. He was wearing a bulletproof vest, but his arm and his head were bloody. As they moved out of the range of the camera, Sarah started digging through her purse, looking for her phone as her father continued to stare at the screen.

Sarah knew the team would be too busy to answer a phone call, as would Abby. She also knew that since Tim was conscious and moving under his own power, he'd tell the agency not to frighten her with a call. She needed another agent to get through the juggernaut for her, and the perfect candidate was the most recent addition to her contact list.

Ron Sacks had insisted that Sarah have his number as a back up while she and Tim dealt with their father. Now she was grateful for a whole other reason. He'd just answered his end when she started plying him with questions. "Ron, it's Sarah... Sarah McGee. That shooting down by the docks, they're showing it live on the news. Tim was the agent hurt. Where would they take him? What do I do?"

---NCIS---

After five hours of looking through surveillance tapes, Ron could hardly see straight. He shut down the viewer as he rubbed his eyes. Fornell looked up from his desk at the other end of the room. "I was wondering how much longer you could go without a break. You ready to grab some lunch?"

"Man, you know it." He reached for his coat just as his phone started to ring. Fornell watched in amusement as Sacks almost dropped the phone and had to juggle to keep it from hitting the floor. Finally he had it under control and open. "Yeah, Sacks."

Ron's expression immediately turned serious. "Sarah... Sarah, slow down." While he waited for her to take a breath, he turned the television on so he could see for himself. "He's walking, so it can't be too bad, not even Gibbs would make a seriously wounded man walk out. Where are you right now?"

_Tim's apartment_.

"I want an honest answer, Sarah. Is your dad sober right now?" Behind him, Fornell listened carefully, moving closer as Ron put his phone on speaker.

_Yes, but we're both so scared._

Ron looked straight at Fornell, but the other man did not object to what he told her. "Sarah, I'm on my way over there. Agent Fornell is going to check which hospital he's going to and I'll take you to him. Okay?" They both could hear her crying over the phone.

_Please hurry._

Fornell was already on the phone when Sacks dashed out the door.

---NCIS---

"All right, Agent McGee, we're going to get you to the hospital in just a few minutes." The paramedic finished wrapping up his arm as Tim sat on the bumper of the ambulance. He nodded weakly as Tony walked up to them.

"How ya' doing, McGee?"

If ever there was a time for a snarky come back, this was it, but Tim didn't have the energy for it. "Hurts."

"Yeah, man, it looks like it does. Do you want me to call Sarah or would it be better if we sent someone to pick her up?" Ziva arrived just as Tony was asking.

"I can go and get her if you would like, McGee. I could have her to the hospital very quickly."

"Probably before the ambulance even gets there." Tony's comment and Ziva's glare at him made Tim smile as he shook his head.

"It's not that bad, I don't want her to worry."

Gibbs had been off to the side talking on his phone, but came up just in time to hear McGee. "Afraid it's a little late for that, McGee. There was live video feed of us coming out of the building, so the Director is already calling her." He squatted down to take a better look at McGee as he started to question the paramedic. "Why don't you have a pressure bandage on that head wound?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but the scalp laceration still has glass imbedded it. We don't want to force it any deeper." He moved to the side to start putting away his equipment while Gibbs stayed where he was, studying his agent. The stun grenade was not designed to cause injury, just a distraction, but it went off next to a large plate glass window, shattering it. When Gibbs had entered the hallway and found McGee slumped over, covered in blood and shards of glass, he'd feared the worst.

He tapped Tim's knee, getting his attention. "Hey, you did good in there, kept your cool under some pretty rough conditions."

"Thanks, Gibbs."

Any further conversation was halted when the medic moved in and helped Tim into the ambulance, closing the door. The lights and sirens came on, clearing the path and the large vehicle pulled away leaving Gibbs standing there. He realized two things. He realized that McGee had not called him 'Boss' since the confrontation in the elevator and that if bothered him more than he was willing to admit.

---NCIS---

William almost took the ride to the hospital that Sacks offered him, but he could see Julia standing on the stoop behind the FBI agent. Now he was alone with his wife as she vanished and reappeared, calling his name over and over. He fled to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, but he could still hear her. On his hands and knees, he dug frantically through the drawers, hunting for cotton balls to plug his ears. When the drawers yielded nothing, he next tried under the sink where he found an empty bottle. Reverently, he picked it up. The inside of the bottle was dry, but he could still smell the contents. Without even thinking about it, Will broke the bottle open to run his tongue over the pieces.

---NCIS---

The car was already moving when Sarah's phone rang. As soon as Vance introduced himself, she told him in no uncertain terms that she was more than capable of taking care of her brother and whatever help she might need would come from the FBI and not from NCIS. Beside her, Sacks bit back a grin as he made a silent promise to never get on the young woman's bad side.

---NCIS---

Once the glass was dug out of the wound, and five stitches were placed along his hairline, the doctor allowed Tim to sit up on the exam table. The bullet had left a gash on his bicep that was painful but not too serious, but the doctor had other concerns. "How long have you been working this case?"

"Just this morning, a tip came in that some stolen weapons were being moved today, why?" Whatever shot they had given him had him pain free and he was suddenly exhausted.

"And before that?"

Tim dabbed at the reopened split on his lip, not picking up on where this was headed. "The last week has been paperwork purgatory. Again, why?"

The doctor jerked his head at the nurses and aides, quickly clearing the room before he sat on a stool directly in front of McGee. "Agent McGee, you have a mostly healed burn on your hand and lower arm, your back is covered in bruises and that cut on your lip is not a new one, it's a partially healed injury that has broken open again. I understand paperwork, some days I feel like I'm drowning in it, but it usually doesn't beat me to a pulp."

Tim closed his eyes for a moment. "It's not what you think."

"Then tell me what it is, before I report it to your superiors because right now you look like a victim of domestic violence."

Tim groaned, wishing he'd been taken to a civilian hospital rather than Bethesda. "My dad's been staying with me while he's been drying out."

"He's an alcoholic?"

"Yeah, first couple of days were pretty rough, but today is his third day without booze." The doctor didn't look convinced, so he kept explaining. "The fire started during a blackout and the rest happened when he was hallucinating. He wasn't directly trying to hurt anyone."

"Hallucinations and blackouts? How long has he been drinking?"

Tim shrugged as he thought about it. "Twenty-five years, probably longer. He was really good about covering it up until the last ten years or so. The kind of drunk that never looked drunk."

"Damn, if you need a break, I can admit you overnight."

In truth, the offer of a night on a real bed was as tempting as the offer of the break, but if the doctor knew he was sleeping on the floor, he probably would call the Director. "Thanks, but no. I'm not leaving my baby sister to deal with it on her own. Besides, we're trying to get him into rehab."

A knock at the door interrupted any other argument the doctor might have had. An apologetic nurse stuck her head in. "I'm sorry, Dr. Lewis, but Agent McGee's sister is here."

Sarah didn't wait, she pushed past the nurse and rushed into the room, Sacks only a few steps behind her. "Tim, are you all right? I was so worried, you looked so bad and all covered with blood..."

"I'm okay, Sarah." He held his uninjured arm out and she flew at him, burying her face in his shoulder."

"I was so scared, and I yelled at Director Vance."

"You yelled at Director Vance? It's a good thing I'm changing agencies." While she snickered against his neck, he turned his attention to Sacks. "Hey, thanks for taking care of her."

"No problem, besides, it's not every day I get to listen to a director of a armed federal agency get torn to shreds." Sacks leaned against the end of the exam table as he watched the siblings. She looked up at him, wide-eyed.

"I wasn't that bad, was I?"

Sacks stayed quiet and Tim turned to Dr. Lewis, who was enjoying the show. "How soon can I get out of here? I really don't want my dad to be on his own very long."

"Let me write up your prescriptions and we can get you on your way." Lewis looked down at the blood soaked shirt that had been cut off his patient. "Let me see if I can scrounge up some scrubs for you to wear, too."

Tim knew that posed a different problem. "No pain pills."

"You're not serious." Sarah stared at Tim, not understanding, while Ron tried to explain.

"Sarah, he's got an addict living with him."

She shook her head. "Daddy always drinks, it's never been pills."

"How much booze could Dad trade for a bottle of prescription pain pills? I can't take that chance, Sarah, especially not with my name on the prescription." Tim gave her a sad smile before turning back to his doctor. "No pain pills, no sedatives or muscle relaxants, okay?"

Lewis looked thoughtful, tapping his lip. "I have an idea, I'll be right back." Sacks used the excuse of getting shirt from his car to leave the room also, leaving the brother and sister alone. Tim reached out and lifted her face up to look at him.

"I'm okay, Sarah."

"You weren't going to call me, were you? If that video hadn't shown you being helped out of there, I'd have never known."

Tim raised an eyebrow as his finger traveled from her chin to his forehead. "This isn't something I could exactly hide but, no, I didn't want you to worry."

"But, I do worry." She hugged him tight. "I worry every single day."

---NCIS---

Sacks had his phone out as soon as the door to the exam room closed behind him. William McGee's sudden decision not to accompany them to the hospital was worrying him. Fornell grumbled, but agreed to check on the elder McGee. Call made, he grabbed a shirt from the overnight bag he kept in the trunk and arrived back in the emergency department in time to follow Dr. Lewis back into the room.

Sarah pulled away, wiping her eyes, as the two men came in. Dr. Lewis poured some pills out of a bottle and into his hand to show them. "Can you tell the difference?" He separated them into two piles as he asked.

They both saw the difference, but Sarah was the one to describe it. "The yellow on those capsules is a deeper shade."

"Exactly." Lewis was actually rather pleased with himself for thinking of this. "The darker ones are pain pills, the rest are your antibiotics. There's only six of the pain pills, but that should get you through until tomorrow. By then, extra strength Advil or Tylenol should do the trick."

Tim took the bottle with a grateful smile. Antibiotics had no real street value. "Thanks, doc."


	12. Chapter 12

Fornell knocked on the door for a third time before he broke down and picked the lock. As he suspected, the apartment was empty, but the broken bottle in the bathroom was worrisome, especially when he saw the traces of blood on the edge of one of the pieces. He locked the door behind him as he dialed his phone, determined to track down McGee's wayward father before Sacks brought their future agent home from the hospital.

By the time he was down the stairs, he had made his call. Carl hadn't left yet for Denver, so Fornell asked him to track William McGee's cell phone. The answer came back quickly, the phone was still in the apartment. Tracking William would have to be done the old fashioned way, on foot.

Fornell started at the closest store that had any kind of alcohol and went from there. At the seventh store one of the clerks thought the description was familiar and a check of her till produced a check with the name Timothy McGee printed on it and the signature T. W. McGee on the bottom. He paid the purchase amount in cash and took the check as he continued to search. The park next to the store's parking lot was the logical place to search, He spotted a lone figure sitting on a bench at the far corner of the park.

"William McGee?" Apparently Fornell had not been quick enough because the bottle in the hand was more than half empty.

He eyed the man as he walked up. "Who wants to know?"

"I'm Agent Fornell." Tobias sat down next to him, on the side with the bottle and waited. The eyes that turned towards him were already blurry as the alcohol hit his bloodstream.

"Is this where you tell me my boy died in the service of his country?"

"Tim's not dead. In fact, he'll be on his way home from the hospital any time now." Tobias watched him closely. "Is this the way you want him to see you?"

Will tipped the bottle up and took a long drink. "Oh, I think Timmy figured out a long time ago that the emperor isn't wearing any clothes. I used to hate him, you know. Hated the boy with a passion at times."

"Why would you hate him? He seems like a good man." Fornell was rapidly feeling in over his head.

Another swig from the bottle and Will wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "He is, he's a better man than I'll ever be."

Fornell watched and waited, eventually Will set the bottle back down next to him and let go of it. Seizing the opportunity, he grabbed the bottle and poured the rest of it out onto the ground.

"What in the hell are you doing? I paid for that."

"Technically, I paid for it. You passed off a stolen check. Now, you've got two choices, you can go home and sober back up or I can run you in for fraud and theft. Which is it going to be?" Fornell didn't wait for an answer before he tossed the empty bottle in the trash and hauled William to his feet. "If you puke in my car, you will end up in the drunk tank."

William pulled himself up straight. "I never puke." He walked to the parking lot without the slightest bobble or weave and Tobias saw clearly how the man was able to fool his superiors for years.

---NCIS---

Gibbs had a disturbed expression when he closed his phone, causing Ziva to stop collecting evidence and join him, carefully stepping over the glass still on the floor. "What did the hospital say about McGee?"

"He was released a few minutes ago."

"That is good, yes?"

"His sister and Agent Sacks took him home."

Ziva watched him carefully. She may not always know the right idioms, but she could read people, especially Gibbs. "I did not know that he and Sacks were friends, but at least he did not have to take a cab home from the hospital." She returned to her task, not noticing Gibbs' increased frown.

---NCIS---

Sacks parked his car in McGee's assigned space, noticing Fornell's car in one of the visitor's spaces. Sarah leaned forward from the back seat, gently waking her brother. The pain killer Dr. Lewis had given him for the ride home packed quite a punch. By the time Ron had the passenger door opened, Tim was awake, if not fully aware. Between the two of them, they got him upright and up the stairs. Fornell met them at the door.

Sarah peered over the shoulder of the man that opened the apartment door, only vaguely aware when he was introduced to her. Once they had Tim seated, she turned back to Fornell. "Where's my father?"

"He's... sleeping." She recognized that hesitating description. She'd used it herself at least a hundred times, she was sure.

"Sleeping, or sleeping it off?"

Fornell saw the sad recognition on her face and swore he'd never cause that expression in his own daughter's eyes. "By the time I got here, he'd already left and was most of the way through a bottle when I caught up with him." He waited until she'd stopped cursing under her breath before telling the rest. "He got his hands on some of your brother's checks to buy the booze."

"I want him arrested."

"Sarah, no." Tim took the check that Fornell held out. His father had used his own initials in signing the check. "He didn't forge my name and the amount isn't large enough for the DA to even bother with. It's not worth alienating him and losing what little control we have over the situation." Once she nodded, he turned back to Tobias. "Agent Fornell, I want to thank you for your help. I know this isn't exactly in the job description, especially when I'm not even one of your agents."

"But you will be one of mine pretty soon. On our team, we take care of each other, so consider this a jump start." He waited a heartbeat. "One more thing, Tim, when we're off the job, it's Tobias."

---NCIS---

The elevator doors opened, allowing three tired and quiet NCIS agents to enter the bullpen. Vance apparently knew they had arrived back, because he joined them before Gibbs was at his desk. "How is Agent McGee? I understand he's been released from the hospital."

Gibbs rubbed his face before he answered. Since there had already been an agent at the hospital along with McGee's sister, they wouldn't release any information when he'd called. "You know as much we do, Director. His sister was accompanied to the hospital by an FBI agent and they took him home, and, no, I don't know when the FBI got involved in this."

"They got involved when McGee requested a transfer last week." Vance waited for the explosion, but DiNozzo and David weren't as surprised as he'd been expecting. Gibbs, however, was shocked.

"What? And I'm just finding out about it now?"

Vance ignored the outburst. "Fornell is very happy with his request. I can stall it for two weeks at the most, that's how much time you have to fix whatever is wrong, Gibbs."

"Abby will be devastated, Boss."

"She already knows, DiNozzo. She knew before I did. Two weeks, Gibbs, that young man is going to go far and I'd rather he do it with us." After one last glare, Vance returned upstairs.

Gibbs watched the other two squirm uncomfortably. "You two know something about this?" Tony shrugged.

"He hasn't been happy lately, but I don't know why."

"That is not exactly true, Tony." Ziva leaned forward, annoyed that her friend's discouragement had come to this. "You were there, you heard what he said last week." When Gibbs gave her the 'well, I'm waiting' expression, she broke down and told him. "McGee was describing the family dynamics of the team. He referred to himself as the exchange student that had overstayed his welcome."

Tony watched Gibbs drop down into his chair. "I'm sure he didn't really mean it Boss."

"He applied for a transfer, he meant that much." Gibbs rubbed his eyes. "It's late, people, go home."

"Boss?"

"Go home, DiNozzo."

---NCIS---

Fornell wasn't real sure about putting McGee on the other side of the bed, but his father had seemed down for the count. Just to be sure, he kept an ear tuned to the bedroom. Sure enough, less than an hour after Sacks had brought McGee home, the elder McGee became restless. Fornell stood in the doorway and watched. Tim had not stirred, the week of caring for his dad combined with his injuries and the pain shot had taken their toll.

William's head jerked around and his arms flailed as he became lost in a nightmare. Before Tobias could move, he sat up with a shout and grabbed Tim by the neck. "William, no!" Wishing he hadn't sent Sacks for dinner, Fornell lunged, but the two men tumbled off the bed, Tim's cry of pain cut off by his fight for oxygen.

"Daddy, stop, don't hurt him." Sarah was only a few steps behind Fornell,, wincing when Fornell put her father in a headlock, designed to incapacitate. Eventually, William went limp, letting go of Tim's throat.

Coughing, Tim rolled to his side and then up onto his hands and knees, giving Sarah a quick hug. "It's okay, Sarah, I'm fine." He crawled across the floor, not wasting the energy to get to his feet. "I'll take him."

Fornell shook his head, but allowed Tim to pull his father close. As he'd done more times than he could count, Tim gently rocked him as Will slowly became aware of his surroundings. "Timmy?"

"I'm here, Dad." His voice was hoarse and Will turned partway so he could pat Tim's cheek.

"You sound sick. Why don't you stay home from school today, son."

"Thanks, Dad." Tim looked up at Sarah briefly. She was silently crying as she left the room. Sacks had arrived during the commotion and was observing quietly.

Fornell watched the interaction before he and Ron moved closer and helped Tim get his father off the floor and back into the bed. None of them said anything until they were back out in the living room with the door partway closed. Sacks pushed McGee into the closest chair. "Okay, what the hell was that?"

"I guess it was some sort of nightmare." Tim grimaced and touched his throat. "A pretty intense one."

Sarah wasn't so sure. "Mr. Hall thought Daddy was starting to develop alcohol psychotic disorder." She stumbled over the words slightly, but Fornell wasn't sure if it was because she was unsure of the terms, or if it was the pain of facing what was happening to her father. "I don't understand, he was getting better over the weekend. It's my fault, isn't it? I shouldn't have left him alone."

Tim reached over and took her hand. "No matter how hard we try, the final decision to drink or stay sober is Dad's. It's not your fault, Sarah."

Fornell's concerns were more pressing. "How often is he violent?" Sarah answered before Tim could say anything.

"If he's in his normal drinking pattern, he's not, but when he binges he's a mean drunk."

"The blackouts and hallucinations are new." Tim shrugged as he confessed the rest. "So far I've been able to handle him, but I don't know what's setting them off. The longer he's sober, the better his control is."

"But he's not sober now." After stating the obvious, Sacks made a decision. "You're in no condition to handle him tonight; I'll stay here."

Tim didn't feel comfortable putting his future co-workers through the inconvenience. "That's not necessary, we'll be fine."

Fornell put his foot down. "I don't believe that was an option given. Either Sacks spends the night, or I call for a wagon and have him taken out of here in a straightjacket."

"He needs rehab, not a rubber room." The one time they'd had William committed, it had only lasted a week and the fallout was much worse than the binging had been.

"Then I guess I'm spending the night. I'll grab my bag from the car."


	13. Chapter 13

**a/n - Even Gibbs can't ignore the clues any longer, and he approaches this like a good sniper would. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. My son's college recital was this weekend, so I haven't been around a great deal, but it was a terrific treat to come home to all those in my mailbox.**

The parking lot was pretty full, so DiNozzo parked his car on the street. He had a large pepperoni pizza to split with Tim, and a medium cheese pizza for Sarah. In a bag from the local grocery store was a six pack of soda along with as many of Sarah's favorite pizza toppings as he could remember. Movement from one of the cars caught his attention and he watched Ron Sacks climb out of the sedan, balancing a stack of take-out boxes. He was pretty sure he knew where the man was going, and it was quickly confirmed as Sacks climbed the stairs to McGee's apartment.

Uncertainty was not a trait Tony would ever admit to, but he sat and waited, hoping Sacks would leave soon. After about twenty minutes he perked up as he watched Sacks retreat down the stairs in a hurry. Rather than leave, however, Sacks took an overnight bag and a duffel bag out of the trunk of his car and quickly returned upstairs.

Tony turned off the radio as he pulled away from the curb. No longer hungry he decided to make a detour. There was a homeless camp under the bridge about a mile away, he'd drop the food off there on his way home. What he wanted now was something stronger than soda.

---NCIS---

Abby was in her office, just finishing a phone call from Sarah when Gibbs arrived in the lab. She didn't bounce up when he came in, and she hardly noticed the Caf-Pow he brought with him. "I haven't even finished logging in the evidence yet, Gibbs. I won't have anything for you until tomorrow."

"McGee's all right, Abby. The hospital didn't even keep him."

She used the cuff of her sleeve to wipe her eyes. "I know, I've talked to Sarah a couple of times today."

Gibbs was pretty sure he knew what the problem was, and decided to reassure her that it would all work out. "Abs, I know you're upset about him wanting a transfer, but we'll get it sorted..."

"No." She looked up at him for the first time since he came in. "I'm happy for him, he really deserves this chance, you know, and... and..."

"And?" Gibbs waited for her to finish.

"And, I think I'm going with him."

Gibbs stared at her in shock. "What?"

Abby wiped her face again and returned her attention to the computer screen. "I'll have results on the evidence tomorrow, Gibbs." It took him a minute to realize that he'd been dismissed, but she didn't look up again until after he'd left, proud of herself that she'd kept her promise to McGee.

---NCIS---

Tim raised an eyebrow when Sacks pulled an Aerobed out of his duffel bag and inflated it, but he didn't argue when the inflated mattress was offered to him. Sarah watched the silent exchange in amusement and then carefully smoothed the blankets over her brother when he quickly fell back to sleep. Ron returned to the computer game Tim had set up for him as Fornell picked up his coat. "Are you sure you're going to be all right tonight?"

"Daddy will probably sleep until morning now." Sarah tucked her hair behind her ears as she gave Fornell a brave smile. "When he wakes up, he won't remember that any of this even happened."

It was a hell of a way for a man's children to have to live, and Fornell's respect for McGee and his sister increased ten fold. He reached out and cupped her cheek, like he did Emily's. "Someday, I hope your father recovers enough to realize just how lucky he is to have the two of you. Now, I am going back to my office to check on the search Tim is running to find your mom, but if you need me, call. I don't care what time it is."

Sarah raised up on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

---NCIS---

For the second time in a matter of days, Gibbs found himself outside McGee's apartment building. He climbed the stairs, not knowing what he would say to the young agent who wanted to leave his team. He'd had other agents move on before, certainly, but this time it was tearing the rest of the team apart. Unlike Tony or Ziva or even former team members, Gibbs didn't have any idea what was going through McGee's mind right now, and that was something he was not used to. It was time to get to the bottom of it, one way or another.

His brisk knock was answered almost immediately and Gibbs found himself face to face with Sarah McGee. She held the door open only a few inches, her foot bracing it and preventing it from opening further. "It's very late, Agent Gibbs. My brother is asleep."

"I am sorry, Sarah. I just wanted to see how he was doing. He was released from the hospital before we could leave the crime scene. I won't disturb him, and I won't stay long." He smiled after the rare apology and waited for her to open the door the rest of the way.

Sarah was not having any of it. "Actually, Agent Gibbs, you won't be staying at all. When he wakes up, I'll tell Tim you were here."

"Please, Sarah..."

She shook her head. "You've had plenty of opportunities, Agent Gibbs. My brother is exhausted and injured and I'm not waking him up just to appease your guilt. Good night and good bye, Agent Gibbs."

Before he could come up with another argument, Gibbs was staring at a closed door. He heard her lock the handle and then the deadbolt before sliding the chain in place.

---NCIS---

Tobias didn't bother with the overhead lights as he sat at his desk, the small lamp on the desk would be sufficient. While Sacks had kept Sarah McGee busy sorting out the food he'd brought, Tobias had been brought up to date on the search for Julia McGee. At her son's insistence, Julia had always kept an emergency stash of money, hidden away where William couldn't find it. Because of that, Tim had been concerned, but not too terribly worried when his mother first fell off the grid.

By now Julia had had plenty of time to do her running, and Tim was becoming more and more worried. She had not made contact with her children, her relatives or any of her friends. After witnessing an alcohol fueled outburst that night, Tobias had to agree. Julia McGee had been in danger from her husband before she disappeared the week before.

The BOLO Tim sent out in Iowa had not had a single hit and Fornell upped it to a nationwide alert, listing her as a potential witness in danger. He questioned whether or not the small sub-station of the state patrol had adequately searched the family home and started the paperwork for a second search, this time conducted by the FBI. It would take a few days for the field office in Des Moines to put his orders into play, but Fornell was determined that by the end of the week every inch of that house and the five acres would be properly searched.

---NCIS---

Vance looked up from his paperwork as a shadow passed, darkening the light that shone under the door. It passed again and he counted off the steps involved. There was only one person that would be pacing in his outer office at 2330, so he reached out and turned on the intercom. "If you want to pace in here, I have coffee, Gibbs." The door opened.

"You're working late, Leon." Gibbs helped himself to the coffee and sat across from Vance at the desk.

"Yes, well," Vance took a sip of his own coffee and shrugged. "Jackie agreed to let Lily have a sleep-over because her friend's parents are out of town tonight."

"So, you're hiding."

"I'm finishing paperwork."

"You're hiding."

Another shrug. "I'm hiding." Vance drank more of his coffee. "What about you, why are you still here?"

Gibbs stared at his coffee, watching the rings form as he tapped the side of the cup. "I screwed up, Leon."

"McGee?" When Gibbs nodded without saying anything, Vance pressed on. "What are you going to do about it? Have you talked to him?"

A bitter laugh, "I couldn't get past his sister." He set the untouched coffee down on the desk surface as Vance laughed softly.

"Yeah, she's a little firecracker, isn't she? I haven't gotten a dressing down like that since I broke Mrs. Cooper's window with a baseball." When that didn't get so much as a flicker of amusement, he turned serious. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

Gibbs had thought of nothing else since his drive back. "I think... I think I only have one more shot at making this right, and I need to know about his father."

That was not what Vance was expecting. "His father?"

"Everything started coming apart when he tried to talk to me about his dad coming for a visit."

"When was this?"

Gibbs rubbed his cheeks. "Right after DiNozzo's father left town."

Sometimes Gibbs was predictable. "And the last thing you wanted was another father underfoot."

"He's close to his family, calls home like clockwork. The last thing DiNozzo needed was another reminder of what he missed out on. Neither did Ziva." Gibbs got up and started pacing as he talked. Vance's words stopped him cold.

"And you didn't want the reminder of what you've lost."

The silence was long and telling before Gibbs repeated his request. "Whatever is going wrong with McGee, with my team, it has something to do with his father. McGee's stubborn, now that I've missed the chance, he won't tell me, so I've got to find out on my own. I need his dad's records, and the unofficial stuff, too." Gibbs knew how the official records could gloss over an unproven problem. "Especially, the unofficial record."

"That may take a few days." A nod and Gibbs was out the door, leaving Vance to wonder just what was hidden in the McGee family closet.


	14. Chapter 14

**a/n - Grumble, I hate spring colds. Thanks for all the wonderful comments. Remember, it's only been a few days since Tim's father arrived, even less since Tony and Ziva began to suspect that something might be wrong. This is not the kind of story that wraps up neatly in an hour like on TV, so we have a ways to go.**

It was under protest that Sacks dropped Tim off at the doors to NCIS the next morning. He smirked as he parked outside the building. "By the way, I did notice that you waited for your sister to leave for the coffee shop before you said anything about going to work today."

Tim gave him a sheepish look in return. "Hey, I'm not suicidal." Ron was right, though, Sarah would be livid when she discovered that he returned to the job. In truth, he just wanted to get done with his reports and get out of there before Tony and Ziva started asking too many questions.

"Uh uh." Ron was anything but convinced. He had spent a restless night in the chair with his feet propped up on the desk, waking up any time one of the three McGees moved. Admittedly, it was Sarah that was the restless sleeper of the group, but Tim was heavily medicated and William was drunk. Unlike his own father who'd always been sick after a binge, William just woke up sullen and withdrawn, with no memories of his attack on his own son. "Did you take your pills?"

"I took the antibiotics and some Extra Strength Tylenol." Before Sacks could voice his objections, he explained. "Those pain pills knock me out. I just want to stay awake and alert while I'm here and so I can drive myself home. Besides, it's not that bad."

"Right." Still not convinced, Ron took a good look at his passenger. His sister had teased him about the 'English Professor' look, but the turtleneck sweater did hide the bruises around his throat. The tweed jacket was a little large on him, but that gave room for the bandage on his arm and the collar kept the strap of the sling away from his neck

He'd had the same discussion with Sarah before she'd relented and left for her shift and a chance to talk to her mentor, Greg Hall. "Relax, I'll be fine."

Ron also relented, but with a restriction. "If you have even the slightest doubt about driving yourself home, I want you to call me."

"It won't be a problem."

"Just remember, once you're on Fornell's team," he waited until Tim was looking at him. "You hide an injury from him and he'll kick your butt."

---NCIS---

Ziva wasn't sure if Sarah would be working this morning or home taking care of her brother, but sure enough, Sarah was behind the counter when she walked in. "Good morning, Sarah."

"Good morning, Officer David, or I guess it's Agent David now. What can I get you to drink?" Ziva ordered a tea as she watched the younger woman. She looked tired, but composed.

"How is your brother this morning? He was released from the hospital before we could leave the scene."

Sarah quickly made the tea and handed it to Ziva. "He says he's fine. He's going to work this morning." Once the money was in the register, she turned away, but Ziva reached out and caught her arm.

"Please, Sarah, something is obviously wrong. Let me help."

"I can't." Sarah pulled away and started straightening a nearby display. From the back doorway, Greg watched the exchange closely as Ziva refused to back down.

"Of course you can. Your brother helped save me when I was in a very bad place. I would like to return the favor if it is possible." She waited with a hopeful smile as Sarah seemed to think about her offer.

Eventually, Sarah shook her head. "I appreciate the offer, but I can't, really."

Not wanting to give up, Ziva tried a different approach. "If your brother's restrictions on you are causing you pain, then..."

Sarah didn't even let her finish. "My brother has been protecting me my entire life. He would never hurt me and he's not the one putting any restrictions on us." She froze, afraid she'd already given away too much.

Ziva caught the slip immediately. "Who, Sarah? Who is forcing you to hide whatever is wrong?"

"Go away, Ziva." Bursting into tears, she slipped past Mr, Hall to hide in his office. Seeing her distress, he blocked the hall with his wheelchair, preventing Ziva from following her.

"Leave her alone, Agent David. She's going through enough right now."

"How can we help if we don't know what is wrong?"

Greg wasn't about to break a confidence, trust was one of the most important commodities when you spent your days dealing with an alcoholic and their lies and tricks, but he decided to throw her a hint. If she was any kind of investigator, it might do the trick. "How many people does Tim respect so much that he wouldn't go against them?" He didn't wait for an answer, he turned and rolled down the hall to comfort Sarah.

It didn't take Ziva long to put the clues together. "Gibbs."

---NCIS---

Trying to keep busy while he refused to think about the implications of Sacks taking care of McGee, Tony came in early and started cleaning out the van. It was usually McGee's job, which meant that it was in pretty good shape. One of the few things out of place was McGee's backpack, left behind when the other man was taken to the hospital. Tony grabbed it, planning on tossing it onto his shoulder, but he noticed that it was unzipped. He didn't mean to look through it, but a folded piece of heavy paper caught his attention. It was out and in his hand before he even registered what he was doing.

ACOA was an acronym Tony didn't recognize, so he started reading. By the time he was done, he didn't know if he should be grateful for McGee's apparent concern, or offended that he'd made such a leap in his conclusion. Sure, the senior DiNozzo drank, sometimes too much. Sure, he made some poor decisions while he was drinking, the string of stepmothers proved that, but that didn't make him an alcoholic. McGee must have picked up the flier for someone else, another friend that had a parent struggling with alcohol. Satisfied with his rationalization, DiNozzo shoved the pamphlet back into the backpack and took it with him when he returned upstairs.

Ziva gave Tony only the slightest acknowledgment when he set the backpack on McGee's desk, before returning to attention to her computer screen. She used it as a shield as she continued to repeatedly glance up at Gibbs.

Gibbs ignored both members of his team that were present as he studied a summery of the senior McGee's Navy career. He was amazed at how many postings William McGee had gone through during his time in the Navy. More files were working their way through the system and would arrive at Headquarters eventually, but even this thin stack was troublesome. Gibbs had never met a career officer that took early retirement only two months away from full benefits. Just as Gibbs was accessing Tim's files to see if he could piece any more together, the elevator doors opened, revealing the young man in question. Gibbs immediately closed down the computer file and shut the paper files in his drawer as he stood. "McGee, how are you feeling?"

"Probie!"

"McGee, welcome back."

He looked up in surprise as his welcome echoed through the bullpen. "Umm, hi guys, Gibbs." Tim came to a halt as he found himself face to face with Gibbs, startled at the intensity in the team leader's eyes.

"Are you sure you're up to being back so soon? You lost a lot of blood yesterday." What he wanted to ask was why his father wasn't fussing over him, keeping him close and safe.

Tim wasn't sure how to respond. "I'm... fine. I didn't even need a transfusion, and I wanted to get my incident report written up while it's still all fresh in my mind."

Gibbs nodded slowly. "All right, if you feel ready, but don't push yourself too hard today."

"The sooner I get it done, the sooner..." Tim's mouth slammed shut, not knowing if the team knew of his transfer request.

"The sooner you can leave us?"

There was a sad look on Gibbs' face that he didn't know how to interpret. Anything Tim might have said was interrupted when one of the ladies from Accounting walked in with a huge potted plant.

"Agent McGee, this was delivered downstairs. It was already cleared so I volunteered to bring it up." Not knowing where to put the arrangement, she handed it to Ziva who carried it to McGee's desk before reading the attached note.

"It is from your publisher. She loves the final revisions, and they will have the book out for the Spring book promotions. I did not know you had written another book, McGee."

Tony raised up from his seat as he listened to Ziva. "You promised that you wouldn't write about us anymore, at least not without saying anything."

"I'm not." Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. He did not want to have this conversation, and silently cursed Lydia for spilling the beans. "This new book isn't part of the Tibbs series, no Agent Tommy, no Officer Lisa, no reason to say anything."

"Wow, you're really leaving us all behind, aren't you?"


	15. Chapter 15

**a/n - Thanks all for the wonderful comments. The gang is starting to piece together that something is seriously wrong, but will it happen in time? Poor Tony, it must be so hard to admit that your mentor is only human. Chapters probably every other day for a while, I am still sick.**

Working steadily, McGee was finished with the last of the paperwork for the raid and shooting by lunch time. The rest of the team had barely scratched the surface of their own reports, too busy covertly watching him to get any of their own work done. Tim didn't know what was going on with the rest of them, but he gratefully scurried away the second Gibbs gave him permission to leave for lunch. Gibbs waited until the elevator doors closed behind him before grabbing a stack of papers from his desk drawer and retreating upstairs with them.

Ziva waited until he was upstairs to join Tony at his desk. "I spoke to Sarah this morning."

"Yeah?" Tony was still distracted, thinking about McGee's new book with the new characters. Maybe that was why he had the brochure in his backpack, but why did he abandon Agent Tommy?

"Something is definitely wrong, but she is not allowed to tell anyone what it is."

That finally caught Tony's attention and he looked up at her. "Why would McGee tell her that?"

"It was not McGee that gave her the restrictions." Ziva gave a pointed look towards Gibbs' desk. "I believe McGee is under the same restrictions."

Tony looked back and forth between Ziva and the empty desk. "No, that can't be right. I told Gibbs that something was wrong and he went out to check on McGee over the weekend. Gibbs said he was fine. Did Sarah specifically say it was Gibbs?"

"Well, no, but..."

"There, you see, you've got it wrong. Gibbs would know, Gibbs always knows. Something else must have Sarah spooked." Satisfied with his explanation, Tony returned to his paperwork, deliberately ignoring Ziva and her doubts. Ziva threw one more question at him before giving up and returning to her own desk.

"If Gibbs always knows, then why does McGee feel that he is such an outsider even after all these years?"

---NCIS---

"McGee." Abby gently wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder.

He returned the hug, albeit one armed. "Hey, I told you I was okay."

"I know, but I wish you'd have let me come over last night."

"Last night was not a good night, Abs."

"What do you mean?" She studied him for a minute, realizing how rarely he wore a turtleneck to work, and without a word she rolled the neck down, exposing the bruises. "Oh, Timmy, you've got to get you and Sarah away from him before he kills one of you."

"It's going to be okay. The final revisions on my book are done, I'll have my advance in another day or two and then he can go back into rehab." He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and another hug.

She wasn't convinced. "It's not fair."

"Life isn't always fair."

---NCIS---

"Look at this." Gibbs dumped the files on Vance's desk before he started pacing around the office. Vance flipped through the papers and saw exactly what had gotten Gibbs so riled up.

"A lot of transfers without working his way up the ranks." Vance raised an eyebrow at the retirement date. "Not much to show for that many years in the Navy."

"And there's this." Gibbs unfolded the page he'd pulled of the printer. "He left this behind the other night." Vance carefully typed in the long URL and soon they were looking at an article discussing the legal ramifications of having a family member committed. A quick call brought Ducky up to the office.

Skimming the article, Ducky realized the possible significance of the last conversation he'd had with McGee. "Oh my, I may have made the situation worse."

"What do you mean, Duck?"

Ducky frowned as he tried to recall all the details. "The day of his kitchen fire, he was asking me about... about determining when a parent's mental deterioration becomes more than the family can handle. I"m afraid I'd had a rather long night with Mother and didn't take the time to consider why he was asking the question."

Gibbs was adding up the years in his head. "Isn't McGee's father a little young to be suffering from dementia? He's not that much older than I am."

"Yes, well, there can be other causes than just one's advanced age. I'd have to either see his medical records or discuss it in more detail with Timothy." Ducky continued to look through the records they already had. "Under the circumstances, the timing of the fire is certainly suspicious. Has he said anything about his father becoming violent?"

Gibbs and Vance exchanged looks. "Why?"

Ducky laid out the pages that had caught his attention. "Look at the size of the man, Jethro. I would hate to see Timothy have to physically restrain his father if he is suffering from violent outbursts."

"Damn it." Gibbs leaned down to see what worried Ducky. At the time of his discharge from the Navy, William was a good four inches taller and almost eighty pounds heavier than Tim was now. Not noticing the guilty look on Gibbs' face, Ducky continued to think out loud.

"What I don't understand is why he didn't go to you if he felt he was in danger." When Gibbs didn't say anything, Ducky gave him a hard look. "You and I both have failed that young man, haven't we?"

Gibbs nodded as he fell into the nearest chair and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, Duck, we have."

---NCIS---

Sarah stood at the door to her brother's apartment and took a deep breath. She knew that Tim had conned Ron into driving him to the Navy Yard that morning. Sometimes her brother was so predictable it was funny. That meant that their father was alone, probably still sleeping off yesterday's binge. She was determined to not let her brother take on all the strain any longer. Prepared, she twisted the key and stepped inside, not noticing that the door was unlocked. "Hey, Daddy, you awake?" She walked through the apartment, finding it not only empty, but ransacked. The components of Tim's computer were still there, but both monitors were shattered, so she carefully unplugged the power strip. Next, she checked the safe bolted to the bottom of his desk.

The small safe was still intact, but she could see the marks from where someone had tried to pry it open. Sarah thought for a moment about what was in the apartment that had resale value. Tim wasn't one to squander his money, instead he'd spent most of it on her tuition and their father's rehab. He had joked once about having his book royalties sent directly to their father's doctor.

Thinking about his publisher reminded Sarah of the dinner she had attended with him when Deep Six had made the best seller list. He'd been given an engraved Rolex that night. She'd never seen him wear it, instead it resided in the top drawer of his dresser. The bedroom was a disaster and it took Sarah a few minutes to even find the drawer, let alone the gift box that held the watch. As she suspected, the box was empty. She grabbed her phone and dialed.

---NCIS---

McGee knew that Abby didn't really need his help tracking down the serial numbers of the weapons seized in Monday's raid, but he allowed her to rope him into helping so that she could keep him close. Listening to her inform Gibbs, rather than ask him had been the highlight of his day, and he wasn't really paying attention when he answered his phone. "Yeah, McGee."

_Timmy?_

She sounded terrified. "Sarah, what's wrong?"

_I'm at your apartment. Daddy's not here and he's absolutely demolished the place. Your Rolex is gone, and who knows what else._

"Sarah, get out of there, right now, before he comes back." Next to Tim, Abby set down her work, a frightened look on her face as she listened.

_What about your computer? I could get the hard drives out of here..._

"No, there's nothing in my apartment that's worth your life. Get out of there, now." He waited as he listened to her moving towards the front door.

_He's back, he's coming up the stairs. What do I do?_

Frantic, Tim thought about her options. He had no idea how drunk their father was or how he would react to finding her there. "Bedroom window, go out and then down the fire escape." He listened as she made her escape, not relaxing until she was safely on the bus.

Abby watched, heartbroken, as Tim finally ended the call, rubbing at his face with a trembling hand. "You can't keep doing this." Instead of answering, he held her hand as he called and arranged to pick up his advance from his publisher the next morning and then scheduled a meeting with his father's doctor for Wednesday afternoon.

---NCIS---

Two hours after the call from Sarah, Tim was back at his own desk, finishing the paperwork for his medical leave. The bullpen was quiet as Tony and Ziva watched him. Ducky was the first one to come down from Vance's office, and went straight to McGee. "Timothy, why don't you come downstairs with me and I'll check your wounds. I believe we have a conversation to finish, also."

"Thank you, but that is not necessary, Ducky." Tim sent the file up to Vance and started to shut down his computer.

Ducky was not ready to give up. "I did you a disservice the other day, and I'd like to make up for it."

"Nothing to make up for. You were right, it's my problem and I'm dealing with it." Tim retrieved his SIG and awkwardly attached his holster to his belt before picking up his backpack.

"Timothy..."

"Goodbye, Ducky." It sounded so final, that Ducky stood there, stunned as McGee walked out of the squad room.

When the elevator opened, to show Gibbs inside, Tim detoured for the stairs. Gibbs bit back a curse and moved to catch up to him. McGee was almost to the main floor before Gibbs was close enough speak to him without yelling. "McGee... Tim..." He paused, not knowing how to broach the subject.

"What is it, Gibbs?"

"Do you... are you sure you're up to driving home?"

It was all Tim could do to not laugh. Driving home was the least of his worries at the moment. "I'll manage." He continued walking, relieved when Gibbs didn't follow him any further.

Gibbs slowed to a stop, watching as McGee left the stairwell and rounded the corner, out of sight. He seemed lost, but Gibbs wasn't sure how to fix the problem, even though he knew that he was at least partially responsible for it. He glanced at his watch, if he hurried, he could catch one of William McGee's former coworkers before he went on shift.

---NCIS---

Tony debated with himself as he watched Tim head for the stairs. Seeing the sad look on Ducky's face made him decide and he dashed for the elevator, arriving outside just a few seconds after McGee. "Hey, McGee."

McGee stopped, letting his head drop. "What, Tony?"

He blurted out the first thing that popped into his head. "My dad's not an alcoholic, I mean, sure he drinks, but he's not an alcoholic."

"What?" Even as he asked, McGee put the pieces together. The brochure from Greg Hall had ended up in his backpack – the backpack Tony had brought up from the van for him. He didn't even have the energy to get mad. "I hate to break it to you, DiNozzo, but not everything is about you, despite what Gibbs might think."

Tony was already kicking himself as he saw the wall come down. "Damn it, Tim, what happened to us, I thought we were friends?"

Tim froze as he stepped off the curb. "I thought so too, Tony. I guess we were both wrong."

---NCIS---

"Lieutenant Commander Braxton, sorry to get you up so early." Gibbs actually looked apologetic as he looked at the man on the screen in MTAC. Even though it was only 0300 where he was, Braxton looked wide awake.

"No problem, Agent Gibbs. What can I do for NCIS this morning?"

"William McGee." Gibbs waited and watched the reaction. Lieutenant Commander Braxton would never make a good poker player.

"What has he done?"

"What makes you think he's done something?" Gibbs watched him for a moment and realized something. "That wasn't the question you wanted to ask, was it?"

Braxton looked like he was chewing on something sour. "He has a couple of really great kids."

"Yeah..." Unfortunately, you couldn't head slap someone over a secure transmission, so Gibbs waited.

Eventually, the words tumbled out. "I swear, if I'd have seen any marks on either of those kids, I would have reported it, even if he outranked me at the time."

Gibbs struggled to keep a calm exterior as he glanced over at Vance who was watching the exchange. "What made you think that could be an issue?"

"A lot of Navy dads were strict, but those kids were terrified of him. The boy, every time I saw him, he was always between his dad and his sister, like he was protecting her or something."

Vance found it impossible to keep quiet any longer. "And you never reported him?"

"Reported what, sir? Like I said, I never saw him lay a hand on them, never saw a mark on either of them. The scuttlebutt around the base was that he was just a sourpuss from all the lemonade he drank."

"Lemonade?" Gibbs frowned at that. Usually it was coffee that was consumed by the gallon.

Yes, sir, lemonade. He always had a lemonade in his hand, even during drills. We all knew never to touch it."

---NCIS---

When he finally left the Yard for the day, Tony found himself driving in circles as he thought about McGee. Something seemed very wrong, but Gibbs said it was fine, so which did he believe? He wasn't all that surprised when he ended up near the meeting place for the ACOA group, and he parked across the street from the church they used. He remembered the start time of the meeting, but had no idea how long the meeting would last. At least the parking lot was still full, so that was a pretty good indication they were in there. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to find when clusters of people started wandering out of the building, but seeing Sarah McGee being escorted out by Ron Sacks was certainly not on his list of possibilities.


	16. Chapter 16

**a/n - Things will not go well for our team, as the last piece falls into place in this chapter. Thanks for all the wonderful comments, they do make my day. I am still quite sick, but that means that all I do is sleep and write.**

It was well after midnight before Tim had his apartment put back to rights, and his arm was killing him. All that was left were the pile of bags to go to the dumpster, but he knew he'd never make it up and down the stairs the half dozen times it would take to get all the bags downstairs. A soft rap on the door stopped his internal debate.

Ron leaned against the door frame with an understanding smile and a bag of tacos as the door opened. "You know you could arrest him. That Rolex watch was worth enough to make it grand larceny."

"Yeah, I know." Tim followed him to the table, detouring for a couple of diet Cokes from the refrigerator. "But if I put him in the system, it'll take even longer to get him into rehab, plus he'll fight me even more about it."

"Sarah said tomorrow is the day."

Tim shrugged as he slipped his sling back on. "I have a doctor's appointment in the morning, and then meet with my publisher at noon to pick up my advance. From there she and I go straight to New Hope. His doctor will have everything ready for me to sign. He'll be admitted in time to have dinner with the other residents.

"Does he know?" Ron peered around, looking for the older man.

"After today's binge? He won't know what end is up for hours. He didn't even wake up when I poured him into bed."

"Oh, yeah, because that's what your arm needed today. Why didn't you call? Fornell would have sent one of us over to help you."

"It's not fair to dump all this one you guys. My transfer still hasn't even gone through."

Ron pushed a couple more tacos in Tim's direction. "The first thing we're going to do is break you of that mindset. What's not fair is that your dad is a drunk and you've been stuck cleaning up after him your entire life." He thought for a moment before telling what very few outside of his FBI team knew. "My old man took off when I was twelve, he loved the booze more than his family. He showed back up right after I was assigned to Fornell. A lot of team leaders wouldn't have tackled my problems, but Tobias stuck it out with me. We'll do the same for you, you just have to let us."

Blinking, Tim gave a nod. "Did you ever get your dad sobered up?

"Nah, he died of alcohol poisoning a couple of years ago."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. It wasn't mine either. It took a long time for Tobias to beat that into my skull. You'll get there eventually."

"I know that my father's problems aren't my fault."

Ron stood and glanced around the tiny little apartment filled with bags of broken bits of McGee's life, items that wouldn't get replaced any time soon because Tim was using all his resources to give his father one more chance at the life he refused to hold onto. "Like I said, you'll get there eventually." He grabbed as many of the bags as he could hang onto. "You sure you're going to be all right here with him tonight?"

A smile, the first one Ron had seen since he arrived. "Yeah, he won't wake up for hours. I'll be fine."

---NCIS---

"Dad, you awake?" Tim leaned over his father and gently nudged him. When he got a groan and bleary eyes staring at him, he relaxed a little. "Dad, I've got to go out for a while, I need you to stay here until I get home, can you do that?" William cursed as he pulled the covers over his head and Tim knew that was all he was going to get that morning. The remaining cash and the pawn ticket he'd found for the Rolex were carefully locked away in the safe, as was his checkbook. The surviving parts of his computer were already locked away in the trunk of his car along with what remained of his record collection. There was nothing left to steal, sell or pawn that would give Will enough money for booze.

With a final pat on the blanket covered arm, Tim left for his doctor's appointment. Will waited until he heard the door close before he pulled the covers back down. Sure enough, Julia was still sitting on the chair, her blank eyes staring at him. He didn't know what kind of trick Tim was playing on him, but he wasn't going to fall for it. "Go away, Julia, just go away."

Eventually she vanished and William staggered to his feet. When all else fails, have someone else buy you your drink. He'd used the ploy for years, but he needed to look the part. A shower, a careful shave and fresh clothes would get him to the Navy Yard. A well rehearsed story would do the rest, and he had dozens of them ready for the right patsy. Last month's Metro pass was the final piece. Tim hadn't noticed when William took it from the trash over the weekend, and the first week of the month it was easy to con the Metro-rail security guards into believing he was a confused and helpless old man if they caught him.

---NCIS---

Jimmy Palmer looked around the liquor store, overwhelmed. He knew nothing about the different types of brandy sitting on the shelves. The idea had seemed so easy last night. Dr. Mallard had spent weeks helping him prepare for his exams and Jimmy had decided to buy him a nice bottle to show his appreciation, but which bottle?

"You look lost."

"Umm, yes, I think I am." Jimmy looked at the older man standing next to him. He looked somewhat familiar and his stance screamed military. "I want to buy some brandy as a gift, but I don't know anything about it."

William smiled as he started on the top row of the display and started explaining the differences between the various brands. He knew enough that the clerk wouldn't interrupt him and the rest he made up as he went. Will couldn't believe his luck as Jimmy let a few clues slip "So, Dr. Mallard is somebody special? I've heard Timothy mention him a few times."

"Tim? Tim McGee?" Jimmy realized why he looked so familiar "Oh, are you related to McGee?"

"You know my son, then?" William knew he had to be a little cautious, but Tim held his pain close. He'd trained the boy well.

"Yeah, we work together, well, not exactly together. I mean he's an agent and I'm just Dr. Mallard's assistant, but sometimes we're on the same case.

"Now now, Jimmy, never refer to yourself as just anything. How about a nice bottle of seven year old Janneau Armagnac? A great taste and fairly easy on the budget." Will handed a bottle to Jimmy with a smile. "He'll be very impressed with your choice."

Jimmy returned the smile. "Wow, thanks, Mr. McGee."

"Actually, it's Commander McGee, retired, of course and I think I'll buy myself a bottle as well. Tim left for college before he turned twenty one. I believe it's time he got to share a drink with his old man. William followed Jimmy to the register as soon as Jimmy had paid for his purchase, Will started patting down his jacket. "Well, darn it all, I don't have my wallet."

"Oh, here, let me." Jimmy laid his credit card back down on the counter. "Consider it a thank you for all your help."

"Well, thank you, Jimmy. That's very kind of you." All he had to do was wait for the boy to go back to work and then he could exchange the bottle of brandy for several bottles of vodka. It worked every time.


	17. Chapter 17

**a/n - Well, this is it, the chapter you've been waiting for. Tony finds out and is not happy. My fever broke last night, so maybe I've got this nasty bug on the run. Thanks for all the well wishes, they are appreciated.**

The suicide of a Marine kept the remaining members of the MCRT busy for most of the morning. Ziva and Tony worked quietly and efficiently to gather the evidence while Gibbs concentrated on terrorizing the fellow members of his unit. When it was learned that he'd had a fight with his parents the previous weekend, Gibbs mood soured even more.

Once they'd arrived back at Headquarters, Tony was more than happy to take the evidence down to Abby. He used the time away from Gibbs to place a phone call, leaving a voice mail when McGee didn't pick up. "Hey McGee, listen, I'm sorry about yesterday. I don't know what's going on, but I didn't mean to put my foot in the middle of it, and I'm not trying to make things harder on you. It's just that if we don't know what's wrong, then we don't know how to help. Anyways, I guess you're still at your doctor's appointment, but call me, okay? Just... just call me." He closed the phone and stared at it for a long time before picking the evidence box back up off the floor and continuing on to the lab.

---NCIS---

Tim sat in his car holding his phone as it rang. The screen showed DiNozzo, but he really didn't have a clue what to say to the other man. Eventually, it went to voice mail and he waited. Once the message was recorded, he listened to it, then let the message repeat three more times, clinging to the concern he could hear in Tony's voice. He saved the message and gave Sarah a smile before they walked into his publisher's office.

---NCIS---

"Abs?" Tony stood in the doorway of the lab, listening to the music. It was not the heavy metal or alternative music that she was known for. Instead, it was a sad and depressing tune, but vaguely familiar. After thinking about it and watching Abby's behavior he remembered when he'd last heard that tune.

He stepped in and walked straight to the table in the center of her lab. "I haven't heard that music since Kate died. Whose funeral is it for?"

Abby wouldn't look up at him as she wiped her eyes. "Is this the evidence from today's case?"

Tony was determined to not get sidetracked. "Whose funeral, Abby?"

"Gibbs' gut." She finally looked up, but the happy expression on her face was forced and only lasted a moment before it crumpled. "The gut is gone, Tony."

The boss's gut may have had a failure, but Tony's was telling him that time was running out. "This has something to do with McGee. He's in trouble, isn't he?" She looked down again, but he could see that she was chewing on her lip. "Abby?"

"He made me promise."

"Promise what?"

"Not to go to Gibbs."

"This is something that Probie is hiding from Gibbs?"

"No!" Her shouted response seemed to startle Abby and she started pacing. "He tried to go to Gibbs, but Gibbs wouldn't listen to him. I don't understand, because Gibbs always tells us to come to him with a problem, but Timmy's problems didn't seem to matter to him and so he made me promise not to go to Gibbs because he was afraid Gibbs would get mad at me, too." Abby stopped and spun around to face Tony. "I've always liked being one of the favorites, but I never thought about what it would be like to be a not-favorite. It hurts, Tony. It hurts him so much."

Before she could start pacing again, Tony grabbed her arms. "Abby, tell me."

"I can't."

"Because you promised not to tell Gibbs?" He made sure she was looking at him. "I'm not Gibbs."

"You're not Gibbs." It seemed to take a moment to sink in, then Abby stopped trying to pull away and threw her arms around his neck. "You're not Gibbs, Tony, you're not Gibbs."

"That's right, so tell me what's wrong with McGee." Once the words started coming out, he was hard pressed to keep up with what she was telling him.

"His dad's an alcoholic, a mean drunk. He's been having blackouts and hallucinations and he's violent. He's the one that set the kitchen on fire, and Tim is covered in bruises and his dad tried to strangle him. He's only been here a week, but he's stolen or destroyed almost everything in Tim's apartment and I'm scared he's going to kill Timmy before he gets the money together to put his dad back in rehab."

"Oh, God." Tony squeezed his eyes shut at the onslaught of images Abby's words brought out. The most reserved, gentle agent he'd ever known was trapped in a nightmare of domestic violence with a drunk. "Oh, God, he shouldn't have loaned me the money to help my dad. That's why he's selling his car, isn't it? How much money does he need?"

She almost wished she didn't know, but she had asked the same question one night on the phone. "The last time his dad went through rehab it cost over forty thousand dollars. He needs the money from either the car or his new book to make the down payment."

"Why didn't he come to me, Abby?"

Abby stilled and went back to chewing on her lip.

"Tell me."

"Gibbs was protecting you."

This time it was Tony's turn to freeze. "Me? Why would he think I was in danger? Tim's the one getting... getting beaten." He couldn't bear the silence. "Abby, just tell me."

"He... he told Tim that he had no right to rub his father in your face, that you were having a hard enough time as it was. That he expected better of him."

"Expected better? Of all the self-righteous, egotistical..." Tony was half way to the hall before Abby stopped him.

"There's something else, the worst part."

He turned, wanting to put his fist through the nearest wall. "Gibbs threw Probie to the wolves to protect my fragile ego, Abs. He's getting hurt because of that, because of me. What else is there?"

"His mom is missing."

"What?" That wall he wanted to smash was the only thing keeping Tony on his feet as he leaned back against it. "How long?"

"Since his father started drinking again. Tim taught her how to disappear if she needed to get away from him, and she had money stashed away to run with, but she should have contacted Tim or Sarah by now. Sacks and Fornell are helping him look for her, and they haven't found a body yet, but..."

"Fornell and Sacks? A member of our team had to go to them for help because of Gibbs. Damn it to hell." He slapped the wall as he turned again to leave.

Abby didn't know if she'd made it better or worse. "What are you going to do?"

"McGee doesn't think he's part of the family here. I'm gonna make sure he understands he's part of my family, no matter what Gibbs thinks." Tony was in such a rush leaving the lab he didn't see Palmer standing in the hall, listening in horror.

---NCIS---

Gibbs looked up as Tony stormed into the squad room. Without acknowledging his team leader, DiNozzo started shutting down his computer as he tucked his SIG Sauer into his shoulder holster. Gibbs couldn't imagine what would have set him off on a simple trip to the lab. "Problem, DiNozzo?"

Tony grabbed two extra clips and slammed the desk drawer shut. "Obviously not one you're worried about." He couldn't remember the last time he'd objected to anything Gibbs did, let alone raise his voice to the older man, but now he couldn't seem to stop. "What about all that never leave a man behind, bull? Does that only apply to your favorites, Gibbs?"

Baffled, Gibbs shook his head. "Tony..."

"No." Tony slammed his hands down on his desk. Above them, Vance stepped out of his office to listen as DiNozzo continued. "He's always had my back, Gibbs. When you took off for Mexico, he stepped it up and was a great senior agent for me. Every day, McGee had my six. When Ziva stayed in Israel, he made sure I kept my head on straight and didn't do anything stupid."

"Tony..."

"When my dad showed up, he was the one that helped me figure out his scam, he was the one that figured out what kind of trouble he was in. Damn it, Gibbs, Tim loaned me the rest of the money I needed to help him. You didn't know that, did you?" When Gibbs shook his head, mutely, Tony resumed pacing between the desks.

"Why is it, the one time he asks for help, the one time he needs us to have his six, he gets tossed aside like yesterday's garbage?" It was a question he didn't give Gibbs time to answer. "Because you didn't think I could handle it. You thought he had a happy little family and poor pathetic DiNozzo couldn't handle seeing it. Well, newsflash, Gibbs. His father's a nasty, violent man and his mother is missing. Great family the Probie has there."

Tony looked over at Ziva. She had grabbed her own weapons while she was listening to Tony and now nodded at him before turning back to Gibbs and Vance who had come down the stairs to stand next to Gibbs' desk. "McGee needs our help. If you wish, you may file charges of insubordination, but for now, we are leaving."

Vance didn't stop them and Gibbs just leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face and wondering how he'd gotten it so wrong.


	18. Chapter 18

**a/n - Hi, guys. I am slowly getting better, at least enough that I can sit and write. It's a really good question as to why Tim didn't stand up for himself with Gibbs, or go to another teammate. Ducky's starting to figure it out, and he'll help the rest with it soon. That discovery is actually a large part of the upcoming plot, so please bear with me. I hoped to have most of the story done by now, but being sick has really put me behind. Thank you all for the well wishes and reviews, they do make my day.**

"Didn't somebody check out this house last week? So, why are we checking it again?"

The ruddy faced patrolman shrugged as he unlocked the hasp lock that had been added when they had previously broken into the house. "The Sarge said that the FBI is going to be here tomorrow with ground penetrating radar and cadaver dogs. He wants to make sure we didn't miss anything too obvious."

"The FBI? Here? Who are these people?" He followed his partner into the house, stopping in the living room. "Hey, Mark, do you smell that?"

"Crap, yeah, we'd better call the Sarge, tell him we've got decomp."

---NCIS---

Jimmy didn't even make an effort to park evenly when he pulled into the lot at the liquor store. He barely remembered to grab his keys before he slammed the door shut. The clerk looked up and shook his head. "You got taken, kid, but don't feel bad. He even had me conned."

"I don't understand, why would an alcoholic want brandy? Wouldn't something like bourbon or..."

"Like I said, he was quite the con. He was back in here, like five minutes later and traded it for three bottles of vodka."

Palmer felt his heart drop. "And you let him?"

"Not my problem, kid. Next time don't be so trusting." With nothing else to say, he returned to stocking shelves and watched as Palmer laid down rubber in the parking lot as he left.

---NCIS---

Ducky hadn't fully understood the rushed explanation, but the alarm in his assistant's voice was enough for him to follow the young man up the stairs. They caught Gibbs on his way to MTAC to speak to William McGee's last commanding officer. "Agent Gibbs, I think I did something stupid."

"Palmer, it's not really a good time..."

"This can't wait, Agent Gibbs. I met Mr. McGee, Tim's dad, at the liquor store. He helped me pick out a bottle of brandy as a thank you gift for Dr. Mallard."

Gibbs gave him a questioning look, as if he could force the rattled man to make sense. "Okay... and?"

"He kept talking about how he'd never sat down with Tim and shared a glass, and I thought it sounded cool, you know, to get to sit down with your dad, just two adults, and so I bought him a bottle, too."

"I don't see the problem, Palmer." He didn't, but he did fondly remember sitting down with his own father after boot camp and the old man pouring him a glass of bourbon. That evening of man to man drinking and bonding was a highlight of their often difficult relationship.

"I didn't know."

Gibbs was half way up the stairs to join Vance and frustrated as he yelled back down. "Know what?"

"That his dad is an alcoholic." When Gibbs froze, Jimmy took a deep breath and kept going. "His dad's a violent alcoholic and he tricked me into buying him booze."

The pieces were falling into place for Ducky, but he still tried to reassure Jimmy. "Mr. Palmer, be that as it may, brandy is designed to be sipped, not guzzled. It would make him ill before he was able to get drunk off of it. Especially if he has built up a tolerance."

"He traded it." Jimmy looked around the room, and up the stairs. "I went back and checked. He waited until I left and exchanged it for three bottles of vodka. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

Vance leaned over the railing. "It's not your fault, Mr. Palmer. It looks like Mr. McGee has been fooling a lot of people for a lot of years. Let's just concentrate on making sure Agent McGee and his sister stay safe. I'm moving the video conference to my office. Dr. Mallard, Mr. Palmer, would you join us please? I'll bring Miss Sciuto in, too. It's time we worry about McGee's safety instead of his privacy."

"Of course, Director." Ducky gave his haunted assistant a pat on the arm before heading up the stairs.

The plasma screen showed an elderly man, but he sat ramrod straight as he looked directly into the camera. He nodded and smiled, but Vance didn't waste any time with pleasantries. "Vice Admiral Cooper, thank you for speaking with me. You were William McGee's direct supervisor when he retired, is that correct?"

"William McGee? It's been a while, I'd have to double check, but..."

Vance was done with the dance. "Let me refresh your memory. He was an alcoholic, we know that. What we don't know, is how far back it went. He took early retirement under your command, so I am going to assume that you advised him of his options. What happened?"

"Are Julia and the kids all right?"

"No." Gibbs leaned into view and cut off anything Vance might have said. "His wife is missing and the kids appear to be in danger. Now, I can't help them if I don't know what's going on."

Cooper seemed to deflate. "We suspected for years before we knew for sure. Little things that just didn't quite add up, then after... after the incident with his son, his last commander confronted him."

"Incident?"

Gibbs' question caused the other man to flinch, but he kept on with his narrative. "The next morning his blood alcohol level was still more than the legal limit. Captain Myers gave him two options, the brig or rehab. Will refused the Navy's treatment program, but agreed to go through a private program. He used some money from an inheritance, I think, and they arranged an extended leave to cover the time. Afterward, he transferred to my command and he was kept off any ships so we could keep better track of him."

"What was wrong with the Navy's program?" Ducky had been quietly talking to Abby, but now looked to Gibbs for an answer. Gibbs never took his eyes off Cooper.

"He didn't want it on his permanent record, isn't that right? Of course, it's also hard to admit that you've had a lush in your command for years." Gibbs glared at the other man and felt some satisfaction when Cooper flinched. "What went wrong?"

"I"m not sure." Cooper did look honestly baffled, even after all these years. "He seemed fine, even bought this car, I think it was a Camaro, for he and the boy to fix up together. Everything seemed great for a couple of years, he drank a lot of lemonade, but he never stepped foot in a bar. We kept track, I swear. He never went near a bar, not even the Officer's Club."

"He didn't have to." It was the first time Abby had spoken up since she'd slid into a chair at the conference table. "Lemonade mixed with vodka has always been William McGee's drink of choice."

Vance was getting a clearer picture. "He was drinking right under your nose the entire time."

"And we didn't realize it until they crashed that Camaro." Cooper shook his head as he still tried to fight the guilt. "I really thought seeing his kid all broken up like that in the hospital would have kept him sober."

"But it didn't?"

"No, Director Vance. Eventually he ran out of options and we ran out of patience." Something about his words set off an alarm in the back of Vance's head.

"After all the chances you gave him, why not let him slide the last two months until his full benefits would have kicked in?"

"There... there was a mistake in some paperwork that could have been disastrous for our troops. It was just the last straw."

Ducky had been listening and taking notes. "Was this the first clerical error he'd made?"

"I have no idea. We found out that Tim had been correcting his father's paperwork for years, but a storm had him stuck at college and he couldn't come home to fix it that last time."

Everyone around the table could tell that Ducky was onto something and let him continue his questioning. "Exactly how did you uncover the mistake?"

"We wouldn't have, at least not in time." Cooper was staring above the camera, giving him an odd, far-away look. "Tim called me from MIT, asked me to pull the report and verify the numbers."

Cooper's comment unsettled the rest of them, but it seemed to answer Ducky's questions. "Thank you sir, we'll take it from here."

Once the video conference ended, the Director turned to Ducky. "You didn't seem all that surprised, Dr. Mallard. Can you tell us why Agent McGee felt he needed to hide something like this from the agency?"

Abby started to say something, but Ducky reached over and grasped her hand, quieting her as Gibbs interrupted them. "Why wouldn't he stand up to me, Ducky? It's been a long time since he would back down when I wouldn't listen."

"I have my suspicions, but I'm afraid I need more information. For now, our priority should be making sure he feels that he has our support and our trust." Ducky looked like he was gearing up for a longer lecture on the subject, but the terrified expression on Abby's face when her phone rang stopped him cold.

"Abby Sciuto." Everyone watched closely as she listened without a word to the person at the other end before whispering a broken thank you and slowly closing her phone. She looked up, her fear overtaking her anger as she instinctively turned to Gibbs. "They've located McGee's mom, Gibbs."

Jimmy wasn't picking up on the new vibe in the room. "Well, that's good, right?" Abby continued as if she had not been interrupted. "She was wrapped up in a tarp and shoved into the crawlspace of the family home. It appears she was strangled."

"Am I correct in assuming that his father is the only suspect?" Vance pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought about how much easier life had been as an assistant director.

Abby set her phone down on the table and wiped her eyes. Her voice was low, her tone flat, which told those that knew Abby just how frightened she was. "Timmy wore a turtleneck to work on Tuesday to hide the bruises on his neck. His father attacked him during a nightmare and doesn't even remember hurting Tim. Tony should know before he gets there."

Gibbs was already dialing, using the speaker phone on the table. "Tony, there's a problem."

_So glad you finally noticed, Gibbs._

"Besides that, DiNozzo." Gibbs refused to rise to the bait, he understood the anger and fear behind the words. "Your only priority is to get Tim and his sister out of there safely. We'll send back-up to help with the rest." Apparently, his words got through to DiNozzo.

_What's changed?_

"His mother's body's been recovered. How close are you?"

_At his apartment building, heading up the stairs now._

Everyone around the table strained to listen as muffled sounds came over Tony's phone, then yelling.

_Shots fired inside the apartment. I need back-up now, Gibbs._

Vance was already on his phone as Gibbs yelled at Tony and Ziva for more information. "Tony? Ziva? What's happening?" Over the speaker of the phone, the dial tone was sudden, loud and ominous.


	19. Chapter 19

**a/n - Still recovering, it will take a while before I'm at the top of my game again. This chapter is short, but this is where it needed to break. The next chapter will be a difficult one for all of us, and I did not want to try and force a break in the middle of those scenes. Thank you all for the wonderful comments. This story is painfully difficult to write at times, but the reviews make it worth it.**

Gibbs could no longer see the coroner's van in his rearview mirror as the agency sedan approached Silver Spring. He refused to think about Ducky and Jimmy's automatic use of their usual vehicle, but Vance dashed that hope as he hung up his phone. "DiNozzo called dispatch and requested both an ambulance and a coroner."

"Who?"

"I don't know, Gibbs. I don't know."

Behind them, Abby was quietly crying in the back seat. Gibbs glanced at her using the mirror. "Abby, I've always told all my agents that my door was always open. Why wasn't that enough for McGee?"

Abby's large green eyes met his in the mirror. He didn't look angry at all, but the pain she saw took her breath away. Not realizing it, she repeated Vance's words. "I don't know, Gibbs. I don't know."

---NCIS---

"Sarah? Sarah!" Tony tilted her face up and forced her to look up towards him. Hysterical, she still wasn't registering their presence. Near his feet, Ziva was frantically trying to help their friend. "Sarah, are you hurt? Did he hurt you?" He knew she was, the rapidly swelling mark on her face was proof of that. What he needed to know was if any of her injuries were life threatening.

"Tim, Timmy!" Her knees buckled as she screamed for her brother. Tony had no choice but to follow her to the floor, as she had a death grip on his shirt. Now that he was on the same level, he was able to instead catch Ziva's eye.

She held his gaze for a moment before letting her eyes drop. Tony's eyes followed her and looked down at Tim's twisted form. Gray skinned and still, he wasn't sure they'd been in time for their teammate. Only Ziva's repeated checking of his pulse gave him any hope.

Less than ten feet away, a body was sprawled on the carpet. Tony could guess at the older man's identity as his attention was repeatedly pulled back to the empty eyes, so similar to Tim's. The wide pattern of shots and the SIG he'd found clutched in Sarah's hand when they'd entered only told part of the story, Tony knew, but he wasn't sure he was ready to hear the rest. In the meantime, he did know that Tim would expect them to take care of his baby sister, so that was what he intended to do.

As the ambulance arrived and he had to move them to allow the paramedics room to work, Tony retrieved Sarah's phone and quickly found Ron Sacks' phone number. He didn't give the other man time to speak. "It's DiNozzo, I'm at the McGee's. It's bad. The old man's dead, shot. Metro's arriving right now. If they claim we've got a conflict of interests, then Sarah's going to need an advocate that's not NCIS... yeah, gun was still in her hand. Just hurry."

---NCIS---

Gibbs watched an ambulance leave as he pulled into the parking lot. He was out of the car as soon as he had it in park, engine still running, to corner a uniformed officer in the lot. "SitRep?"

"What?" The uniformed man leaned back, blinking at the badge he found shoved in his face before he understood what was being asked. "Oh, umm, three victims were in the apartment. One dead, one dying, one hysterical. Two agents have the scene secured, I guess they're your people."

Vance clamped his hand down on Gibbs' shoulder before he could react to what they were told and steered him towards the stairs. "Miss Sciuto, stay here." Afraid of what they would find upstairs, Abby didn't argue as she sat back down in the car. Ducky and Jimmy arrived as Vance and Gibbs went around the corner, and Ducky ordered Jimmy to stay with Abby as he followed them.

The silence was oppressive when they reached the apartment, in sharp contrast to the chaos outside. Tony was just past the door, supporting a fragile looking Sarah McGee. Gibbs tried to make eye contact with his man, but Tony just pulled Sarah closer and moved further away from the apartment door. Gibbs backed off and turned his attention to the crime scene inside. Ziva was standing over the body of a large man in his early sixties, but staring at the bloodstained rug nearby. They didn't need to ask, the scattered medical paraphernalia told clearly of a frantic struggle to save William's latest victim.

"What do we know so far?"

Ziva hardly glanced at Gibbs before responding. "The senior McGee was shot while attacking his son. He... he was beating him with that." She pointed to a bloodied iron laying on the floor. A partially ironed dress shirt still draped over the ironing board that had been knocked over gave a few more clues. "Sarah McGee was holding her brother's SIG Sauer when we entered the room."

Quietly taking in the carnage, Gibbs gave the slightest nod before turning his attention to Ducky, who was leaning over the body. "Duck, what have you got?"

"I'd say time of death is about twenty years too late."

"Dr. Mallard..." Vance might have agreed with the assessment, but he needed his people to keep their cool, especially with Metro on the scene.

"He has been dead less than an hour, and cause of death appears to be multiple gunshot wounds to the torso. The rest will have to wait until I get him on the table."

Ducky's words sparked an argument over jurisdiction, but Gibbs ignored it as he knelt down next to the body. There was no doubt that this was the man he saw with Tim and Sarah on Sunday, laughing and having a good time, that he understood. What he could not understand was how a father could turn on his children. How could a man love the booze more than his own family, but yet still have such a grip on his kids that they couldn't get away from him?

Vance would have liked the back-up, but he saw that Gibbs was lost in his own thoughts kneeling over the body. Instead, he agreed to allow Metro to observe the investigation and to bring in the FBI as an impartial third party. He almost smiled when the Metro detective insisted on that, but that concession on his part allowed NCIS to maintain control of the situation.

Balboa's team arrived to take over the crime scene and Vance sent Jimmy and Abby to the hospital in a patrol car before the rest returned to Headquarters to interview Sarah McGee.


	20. Chapter 20

**a/n - A hard, difficult chapter today, and somewhat experimental. The readers, along with the gang, experience what happened through Sarah's eyes. If we "saw" what happened, it would have weakened the impact when she told her story. Hope you like it.**

* * *

Sacks arrived at Headquarters with Greg Hall just moments after the team returned, Fornell just a few minutes behind them. If the Metro detective seemed surprised by the quick response, he didn't say anything.

"Sarah, you should ask for a lawyer. Tim would want that."

She gave Ron an odd look and shook her head. "I did it, I killed my father. I just want to give my statement so I can go to the hospital before... before it's too late." Vance entered the interrogation room and Sarah turned to him. "That's right, isn't it? The detective said I could go see Tim as soon as my statement was finished."

"That's correct." Vance knew the other man was hoping to charge Sarah, even though, to him, it looked like an open and shut case of justifiable homicide. "Miss Sciuto and Mr. Palmer are at the hospital. They will call as soon as they hear anything, Sarah. Is there anyone else you'd like us to call? Another family member you'd like to have here with you?"

"Not now, I just want to get this over with." Sarah held still as Ziva took pictures of the bruises on her face and arms along with the blood splatter. Ziva gave her a sad smile as she took samples of the blood.

"Your brother is a strong man, Sarah. He will not leave you if he can help it." Ziva reached out and tucked Sarah's hair behind her ear. "You must have faith."

Vance waited until Ziva had left with the camera and samples. "Are you ready, Sarah?"

"I... I don't want to talk to Agent Gibbs." Suddenly agitated, Sarah sat up straight, her leg bouncing with nervous energy.

"You don't have to talk to him if you don't want to." Vance looked over his shoulder at the two way mirror before turning back to her. "Would you prefer that he not listen while you make your statement?"

Sarah angrily scrubbed at the fresh tears on her face. "No, he can listen, he needs to listen, I just don't want to see him right now."

"All right, then." Vance sat across from her, DiNozzo to his right, while Sarah was flanked by Sacks and Greg Hall. Without even looking into the observation room, he knew that Gibbs, Ziva and Dr. Mallard were bunched up at the window, leaving little room for the detectives from Metro and Fornell from the FBI to watch along side them. "This interview is being recorded for the record and will be conducted by myself, NCIS Director Leon Vance and Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Sarah McGee has waved her right to council and has the right to stop this interview at any time. Also present in the room is Agent Ronald Sacks of the FBI, and..." He turned his attention to Greg, gesturing for him to identify himself for the record.

Greg cleared his throat and leaned forward. "My name is Gregory Michael Hall. I am here as Sarah McGee's advocate. I'm her employer and I run the local branch of ACOA. That stands for Adult Children of Alcoholics."

Vance decided to start with some background, hoping to get a better handle on how things had gotten so out of hand. "Sarah, let's start at the beginning. When did your father arrive in town?"

"Last Wednesday, so it's been a week today." She shifted around in her chair. "I can't believe it's only been a week."

"Tell us what happened."

"Tim made me get up really early and meet him at the school cafeteria. He... he told me that Daddy was drinking again and that he was on his way here. He told me to ask Mr. Hall for some extra hours so I'd be safe, and that he was going to ask his boss, Agent Gibbs, for help with Daddy. That's when I knew it was going to be bad."

"Why?"

Sarah shrugged as she started picking at the label on the water bottle she'd been given. "He'd never asked for help before. Mom had kicked Dad out of the house, so we knew it was worse than usual." Vance didn't say anything, so Sarah continued, proud of her brother's actions. "He was drinking on the bus coming here, but Timmy searched his bags and poured out his booze before he let him into the car. Daddy was so mad, and then that night Tim found the rest of his stash and got rid of it."

Vance couldn't help but smile at Sarah's fierce pride in her brother's actions. "Did that get him sobered up?"

"Well, for a few hours, then he set Tim's apartment on fire." Her face fell as she remembered. "We tried, Tim tried so hard to get him sobered up."

"Sarah, back up a minute." Tony leaned forward, frowning. "You said that Tim wanted you to get extra hours at work so you would be safe. Did your father have a history of violence?"

"Tim was Daddy's designated target." Sarah closed her eyes and took a shaky breath before opening then again. "He didn't want me to be alone with him just in case."

"Aren't there places to get help?"

Greg answered before Sarah could say anything. "An alcoholic has to want help, Director Vance. Very few facilities are set up to handle an involuntary commitment of a patient, and the legal steps are very complicated. William had a history of refusing treatment."

"Tim said he had to hit rock bottom before he'd accept the help." Sarah took a deep breath and straightened in her chair. "Tim had a list of rehab facilities. He had our father on the waiting list of probably a half dozen of the non-profit facilities, but the one that we knew Dad would accept going to wasn't a non-profit. We needed to pay for the first two months upfront before they would take Daddy. It takes time to get that kind of money together."

"So your brother was trying to get a large chunk of money together, and trying to keep William sober at the same time." Vance was beginning to understand the enormous pressure his agent had been under.

---NCIS---

Ziva crossed her arms as she turned on Gibbs, hissing as she tried to keep her voice down. "How could you not believe him? The man is not capable of lying. You were the one that told me that McGee was nothing like my father or Ari."

"I know, Ziva."

"He trusted you to help him."

"I know, Ziva." Gibbs turned back and leaned his forehead against the glass as he continued to listen to the nightmare he'd trapped his agent in.

---NCIS---

"Every time Tim turned his back, Daddy would find some way to get some booze. If he was drunk, he was mean, if he wasn't drinking, then it was blackouts and hallucinations. Saturday... Saturday, Daddy hurt Timmy because he thought the computer cords turned into snakes."

Tony really didn't want to ask, but he had to know. "What happened to the help your brother asked for?"

Sarah wouldn't look at him as she gave a one shouldered shrug. "I don't know. He just said that Agent Gibbs wouldn't help. It wasn't that big of a deal, I mean we were used to it." As Sarah stared at the table top, Tony looked over his shoulder, glaring at where he knew Gibbs would be standing.

"You were used to being turned down when you asked for help?" Vance still couldn't forget the conversation with Vice Admiral Cooper. "Is that correct?"

"The Navy didn't consider Daddy's drinking a problem." She wiped her face again and straightened up, determined to stay on track. "Where were we? Oh, Saturday, Daddy hurt Timmy trying to get away from the snakes."

"The snakes that weren't real."

"Yes, Sir, but Sunday..." She swallowed hard as she pushed her hair back. "Sunday, he was sober, I mean, really sober. I thought he was going to make it, you know. He was remembering good times, he was joking with Tim. He told me..." Sarah wiped at the tears that threatened to fall. "He told me that he missed me. I thought we were going to be a real family again, that Mom would come back and he'd want to stay sober this time."

---NCIS---

"Oh, God." Gibbs closed his eyes as the tragic irony hit him. The one moment of normalcy those poor kids had was the only moment he'd seen. If he'd only joined them in the bleachers that day, if he'd only listened to Tim that first day, if only, if only

Next to him Ziva laughed and shook her head before she started pacing next to him. "Let me guess. When you went to check on McGee..."

"Oh, yeah. I saw a happy family, laughing and teasing each other. There was an empty seat next to the old man, so I figured their mom was nearby. Perfect little family."

"You couldn't have been more wrong, Gibbs."

"I know, Ziva, I know."

---NCIS---

Vance and Tony both froze at the mention of Julia McGee, which Sarah noticed. "Have you found our mom?" The hesitation was just a fraction of a second, but it was long enough. "No, please, no. Tell me she's not dead."

"Sarah, I'm so sorry." Vance reached out to take her hand but she threw herself back into the chair, scooting it backwards several inches as she curled up in it. They watched, heartbroken, as she sat with her heels up on the seat and her face pressed against her knees, shaking with silent sobs.

"Was it an accident, or did he murder her?"

They weren't expecting her questions so soon, as she shook off the comforting arms of Mr. Hall and threw herself against the table.

"Sarah..."

"It's a simple question, Director Vance. Did my father murder my mother? I have a right to know."

Vance studied her for a moment. The strength and determination he'd seen these last few years in her brother were also evident in his baby sister. He treated her as he would have him, with straight, honest answers. "Her body was found earlier today hidden in your parents' home, and it appears she was strangled."

"Like he almost did to Tim."

"When did that happen, Sarah?" Tony remembered McGee wearing a turtleneck sweater on Tuesday and was afraid he already knew the answer, but he had to be sure.

A flash of guilt crossed Sarah's face, which surprised Tony. "I shouldn't have left Daddy alone Monday after Tim was shot, that's when he started drinking again."

"It's not your fault, Sarah." Ron Sacks reached out and rested his hand on hers, pressing it down onto the table as he addressed the two NCIS agents in the room. "Sarah called me as soon as she saw the video of her brother being helped out of the warehouse. I was going to take both Sarah and their father to the hospital, but as we were walking out the door, he changed his mind. By the time I thought to get someone over there to check on him, he was gone. I don't know all the details, but by the time Tobias caught up with him, he was most of the way through a bottle. He was passed out on the bed when I brought Sarah and Tim home from the hospital."

Sarah picked up the narration, having turned her hand so she was holding onto Ron's. "Tim couldn't risk having a prescription for pain killers, so the doctor hid a few in with his antibiotics and showed us how to tell them apart, and then gave Tim a shot of something that really knocked him off his feet. It's a king sized bed, and we laid Timmy on the other side so he could rest. Daddy starting having some sort of nightmare and he grabbed Tim by the throat and they went off the side of the bed onto the floor. I thought Daddy was killing him." Sarah broke down into tears and Sacks continued as Greg rubbed her back.

"I had left to get dinner for all of us. When I walked back into the apartment, Tobias had William in a choke hold, trying to put him under before he killed McGee. William finally let go, he was totally unaware of his surroundings or what he had just done. Tim didn't have to strength to stand, but he crawled over to his father and..." Ron shook his head as he stared at the ceiling, trying to stay in control. "I never saw anything like it. He was sitting on the floor, rocking his father like a child, telling him that it was going to be all right. William heard how rough his voice was and told him he could stay home from school."

"School?" Tony's head was spinning with the realization that he'd been sitting in the parking lot while Tim was being strangled, but he grasped at that one comment. "He was that out of touch with reality?"

---NCIS---

By now it was only his grip on the wooden frame around the two way mirror that was keeping Gibbs on his feet. Ducky moved closer in concern. "Jethro?"

"I don't understand it, Ducky. How could a man let alcohol become more important than his children? How could he ever take another drink after he'd hurt his kids?" Gibbs turned away from the glass, his own eyes bright with unshed tears, willing Ducky to make sense of what was happening. "What kind of man was he? He should have been bursting with pride to have Tim as a son, I know I..."

"You've always been proud of him, I know, Jethro."

Ziva clenched her fists at her side as she fought to control her temper. "Then why did he feel so alone, Gibbs? Why have you never reached out to him? Why did he not have the support that Tony and I have always felt from you?"

Ducky answered when it became apparent that Gibbs would not. "William McGee had it all, Ziva. A woman who stayed at his side for a lifetime, two amazing, loving children devoted to him. When you are approaching the later years of your life and have never had that, or even worse, had that and then lost it, it can be very difficult to..."

She didn't let him finish as she spun back at Gibbs. "Jealous? You were jealous of William McGee? Do you know how pathetic that sounds?" Frustrated, she instinctively switched to Hebrew as she told him what she thought, until Sarah's words caught her attention.

---NCIS---

"Sarah, how much danger were you in?"

"I don't know, Sir. When I told Tim that Daddy was coming up the stairs, he told me to go out the window so he wouldn't see me, that nothing in the apartment was worth risking my life for. I was so scared, but I did what he said and went out the window and down the fire escape. Tim stayed on the phone with me until I was on the bus."

"Your brother was right, your safety was more important. Do we know for sure if William was drunk when he returned?" Vance looked at both Sarah and Sacks.

Sarah chewed on her lower lip as she thought about it. "He was staggering up the steps, so I'm pretty sure he'd already been drinking, and he had a large bag with him. I couldn't see the logo on the bag, but it was the same color bag as the liquor store by the college uses." Sacks shifted and gave an apologetic look to Sarah.

"After Sarah and I went to the ACOA meeting that night, I dropped by Tim's apartment to check on him and his dad. The old man was passed out from being so drunk. I read Tim the riot act about putting him to bed and cleaning up the damage without help, because I could tell his arm was really hurting by the time I got there. I told him he should have called Tobias and one of us would have come to help him."

"Okay, I'm sorry, but I just don't get that part." Tony rubbed his forehead as he rested one elbow on the table. "How did you and Fornell get so involved? It seems like you just jumped right in at the first sign of trouble."

Greg interrupted before Ron could say anything he might regret. "I'm afraid that is my fault. Ron's been assisting me with the ACOA meetings for a while now and I instigated the contact. The strains on a law enforcement officer when dealing with an alcoholic parent are more than what most of my clients have to face. Tim thought that Sarah could use the extra support in case something happened while he was out in the field."

"When I talked to Sarah and realized just how bad the situation was, I figured her brother needed the support too." There was a challenge in Ron's tone, but DiNozzo let it roll off of him.

"I just wish you'd been louder about it."

"Hey, man, I don't know what went wrong with your team."

"Yeah, well that makes two of us."

Vance watched these two usually bitter rivals for a moment before getting the interview back on track. "Sarah, are you ready to talk about what happened today?" She nodded without looking up, twisting her hair as she spoke..

"Tim had a doctor's appointment today for his arm. I guess the doctor really was upset with him because he wouldn't let Tim drive home and I had to meet him there. I drove him to his publisher's office to get his advance and then to pay for Daddy's rehab. I guess Daddy knew or figured it out because he called Timmy and asked..." She paused as she tried to remember exactly what she'd head.

"Do you remember what he said to your brother?" Vance knew the more they understood William McGee's thought processes leading up to the violence of the evening, the easier it would be on everyone.

"He said, 'does the condemned man get a last meal with his kids.' I thought it was kind of strange, but Timmy promised we'd all go out to a nice restaurant before we took Daddy to the rehab facility. After he talked to Dad, Tim used some app on his phone to find an alcohol free restaurant and he made reservations, then we stopped at a menswear store. It was in that strip mall north of Columbia, I don't remember the name."

"That's all right. Do you know why he stopped there?"

"He... he said he needed a clean shirt. Tim only has two turtlenecks and he got blood on the one he was wearing."

Vance raised an eyebrow. "From the bullet wound in his arm?"

"Like I said, the doctor was real upset with him."

"All right, he bought a new shirt, then what?"

"We went back to the apartment. Just like he always does, Tim put his gun in the lock box."

Tony interrupted her. "Sarah, where does Mc... Tim have his lock box?"

"It's in the top right drawer of his writing desk. It's bolted into the drawer just like his safe is bolted to the underside of the desk."

Vance was glad to hear his agent was so serious about the security of his weapon. "So he locked up his service weapon..."

"He went in to change his shirt." Sarah frowned as she remembered. "I was teasing him, telling him not to forget to take the tags off. Daddy was ironing a dress shirt. His hands were shaking and I was afraid he was going to burn himself so I told him I'd finish ironing it." Her face crumpled and she started to cry. "It's my fault, it's all my fault. I know better, it's supposed to be three sprays with the spray starch." She pantomimed the action. "One, two, three, upper sleeve, elbow, lower sleeve, but I was in a hurry and I only sprayed it twice. Daddy got mad and he hit me and I screamed." Sarah reached up and touched the mark so evident on the side of her face.

"I know better, I know I should have taken my punishment like good girl." She didn't even hear the murmured protests from the horrified men in the room as she recreated her father's movements. "He slapped me again and then he picked up the iron and I knew he was going to hit me with it. I... I wanted to run, but it's always worse if you run from your punishment, and it was coming down at me and then all of a sudden Tim was there and he shoved me out of the way and the iron hit him."

Sarah's eyes were dilated with the remembered fear as she rocked back and forth. "Timmy fell and Daddy kept hitting him and I heard the bones in his arm snap. I didn't know what to do and the drawer with the lock box was right there. When those gang members tracked down where Tim lived, he made me memorize the combination, practice it until it was automatic." She reached out and quickly tapped out the combination on the table surface. "Index, index, ring, pinkie. I kept screaming at Daddy to stop, but he just kept at it and he hit Tim in the head and the sound, oh, God, the sound and Tim just went limp and then Daddy hit him again and I was still screaming and I pointed the gun at him and I pulled the trigger and he wouldn't fall down."

She was shaking so hard, Vance was afraid she was going to fall out of the chair, but Greg was holding onto her. "Tim always told me to keep shooting until they stop and Daddy wouldn't stop and I kept pulling the trigger and Tim wasn't moving at all. Daddy's shirt was all red and he wouldn't fall down and I shot him again and then he started coming towards me and I shot him again and he dropped down on his knees and he looked at me like he didn't understand why I was hurting him and he said my name and then he fell down." Sarah started sobbing as she curled in on herself. "I want my Mom."

Vance was at a loss. "Sarah..."

"No more." Gibbs was standing in the now open doorway, hanging onto the door as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. "She's been through enough. Tony, take her to the hospital so he can be with her brother."

"Now wait a minute."

Gibbs turned and shoved the detective that had followed him back into the hallway. "There's not a grand jury in the world that will file charges. She had no choice, you got that? You're done here. We're done."


	21. Chapter 21

**a/n - A normal sized chapter as we shift gears to deal with the aftermath. We've still got a ways to go, but thank you for all your reviews**

Gibbs wasn't surprised when Sarah wouldn't look at him when she passed him in the hallway, sandwiched in between Sacks and DiNozzo, Greg Hall bringing up the rear. Instead of trying to force any contact, Gibbs made sure none of the Metro detectives caused any problems. Word has spread quickly and agents were lined up for the chance to escort them out of the building and far away from the sister of their fallen colleague.

From his vantage point in the interrogation room, Vance watched as Gibbs stood in the hall, while the rest of the observers filed out of the other room. Ducky reached out and touched Gibbs' shoulder as he passed, while Ziva just glared. Fornell hung back, watching as Gibbs stormed into the interrogation room to pace.

"You all right?"

Instead of answering, Gibbs picked up a chair and threw it at the corner.

Vance didn't even flinch. "I'll take that as a no." He watched as Gibbs continued to prowl the room. "You do realize that we may not have been able to prevent this, even if we'd known. Fornell and his team knew and it didn't change the outcome." Both men looked up at the FBI agent standing in the doorway.

"In my defense, I honestly didn't think it was this bad." Despite his protests, Fornell looked like he felt guilty. "I spoke to the old man this morning. He didn't seem upset about going back into rehab. It sounded like he accepted it."

"You knew his wife was missing, you were there when he attacked Tim." Gibbs ran his fingers through his hair as he resumed pacing. "You've never missed an opportunity to rub my face in a mistake, why the silent treatment this time?"

"It's embarrassing for an agent to have something like this to be public knowledge. I thought I was respecting his privacy... and yeah, I admit I was enjoying the fact that I snagged him right out from under you." Fornell pinched the bridge of his nose as he pursed his lips. "Would I have handled it differently if weren't for our history? I don't know, Gibbs, and that is something I have to live with." Fornell looked like he had something else he wanted to say, but eventually he shook his head and walked out.

---NCIS---

"Sarah." Abby stood up and opened her arms to the young woman. In response, Sarah threw herself into Abby's arms and sobbed.

"Is he... did I get here in time?"

Jimmy was standing nervously next to Abby and haltingly answered her questions as he looked back and forth between her and the men that had brought her to the hospital. "Tim's still alive. They haven't told us much, just that he's alive and that they're still assessing his injuries."

"They will tell me more." Ducky didn't slow down as he and Ziva arrived. Ziva joined the group waiting for answers while Ducky continued on, using his identification and powers of persuasion to get past the nurses and into the emergency room. Fornell arrived a few minutes later, followed by Gibbs who silently sat on the edge of the group.

Just as Tony was preparing to storm the exam room Ducky came out, holding his hand up to forestall the stream of questions he could see coming. He pulled a chair close and sat in front of Sarah, taking her hand. "Everyone in this room is here because they are concerned about your brother, Sarah, but it is in your right to hear this in private. Would you like me to find somewhere else where we can talk?"

Sarah looked up and around the waiting room, taking in the worried faces before shaking her head. "No, just tell me."

"All right, my dear." Ducky was holding both of her hands now. "First off, Timothy has suffered multiple broken bones. The two fractures in his right arm will heal with little problem, but the bones in his left arm suffered multiple breaks. It will take a surgical procedure to pin the bones back into place, but that will have to wait until his other injuries are stabilized." Sarah nodded as she listened to him.

"His jaw has been both dislocated and broken, and will also require surgery. There are also several other fractures involving his cheekbone and the bones around his left eye. Right now, his eye appears to be intact, but they'll be watching it very closely." Ducky paused, observing Sarah as she took it all in. "But for now, Sarah, our biggest concern is his head injury. The skull fracture seems to be stable, but the pressure against his brain is increasing."

"What does that mean?"

"If the pressure becomes too great, it will cause brain damage. Now, they are trying to stop it. They've already given him a medication to lower the pressure, but it's not having enough effect, so they are going to try lowering his core temperature."

Sarah frowned as she tried to understand. "How will making him cold stop the pressure from increasing?"

"It will slow the flow of blood and fluid to the site of the injury. That will allow the injury time to heal properly with the minimum amount of damage."

She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. "Tim hates to be cold."

"I understand that, my dear. He won't feel it much because he's going to be in a coma for a while. Now, the doctors are going to allow you to see Timothy for just a few minutes. Are you up to this? "

Sarah nodded as she stared at the floor, then looked up in alarm. "Tim has a living will, do they know that?"

"A copy is in his file here. Hopefully, it won't come to that." Ducky stood and helped Sarah to her feet before escorting her past the double doors.

Ziva had listened closely and turned to Tony after they left. "Did you know he had a living will?"

"No, but remember, he had a degree in Biomedical Engineering." Tony leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling as he blinked back the moisture that threatened to fall. "He probably knows exactly what he would want to survive and how much damage he would consider too much."

---NCIS---

Jackie Vance looked up as the front door opened. Her husband was not only early, he had a strange expression on his face. "Leon, what's wrong?" Without answering he swept the kids up in a hug. "Leon?"

Not knowing what had upset their father, Jared and Lily returned the hug. Eventually Vance kissed them both on the top of their heads and straightened up. Lily watched her dad closely. "You okay, Daddy?"

"I am now, sweetheart. What do you say, why don't we take a family vacation as soon as..." He froze when he realized what he was about to say.

Lily didn't know what the timetable was, but she could guess. "As soon as this case is done?"

"Something like that." He pulled them both close again before releasing them when a car honked outside. "Sounds like your ride here."

Jared, too, was carefully watching his father. "We don't have to go, Dad."

"No, it's all right. You kids go have fun." To convince them and himself, he reached over and picked up their backpacks. Knowing that Leon wouldn't talk in front of the kids, Jackie encouraged them out the door.

Door closed, Jackie leaned against it and crossed her arms. "Okay, Leon, what's going on?"

"Do you remember Agent McGee?"

"Of course. He helped me make sure Jared was playing that online game with only kids his own age. I know he was shot Monday, but I thought you said he was all right."

"His father's in town – his abusive, alcoholic father." Vance walked past Jackie and into the laundry room. "He lost control because he didn't approve of the way Tim's sister was ironing a shirt." Jackie listened in shock as Leon picked up her iron to feel the weight in his hands. "That bastard slapped her and then tried to hit her with the hot iron. Tim stepped between them and took the beating."

"Oh, no, is he going to be all right?"

"I don't think so, Baby. I'm going to the hospital to see him." He set the iron down and pulled her close. "Promise me, Jackie, if I ever turn into that kind of a monster, you take the kids and run."

"Leon, you would never..."

"Promise me, Jackie."

"Okay, Leon, okay. Their father's in jail now, right?" She lovingly patted his chest, not understanding why he was so worried.

"He's dead. Sarah shot him to save her brother." Leon flashed back onto only a few months earlier when it was Jackie with a gun in her hand, saving his life. Jackie seemed to be remembering, too.

"That poor child. Let me get my coat, I'm going with you."


	22. Chapter 22

**a/n - Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, wow! Now the understanding slowly begins.**

"Oh, Tim." Stunned at seeing his injuries, Sarah stopped at the door and Ducky found himself leading her into the ICU room like a lost child. One of the nurses brought over a chair and he sat her down. Sarah reached out for her brother, but there seemed to be no place she could touch him without causing more pain, so she settled for grasping the bedrail as she stared at Tim's still form.

Sarah watched as the eye on his less injured side moved beneath the closed lid and a slight crease appeared for a moment on that side of his forehead. "Is he awake? Is he in pain?"

Ducky glanced down at his watch. "He's been given the drugs necessary to put him in a healing coma, but they have probably not taken full effect yet. Why don't you talk to him, my dear. He may still be able to hear you and it will help him to know that you are all right." She nodded and leaned forward to rest the side of her face on the rail, feeling the cold metal against her flushed skin.

"I'm here, Tim, and I'm okay thanks to you. You saved me from Daddy, like you always do, I just wish you hadn't gotten hurt so bad this time. You've got to get better because... because you're all I've got left... and I can't... I can't lose you, too. Please, Timmy, don't leave me... don't leave me all alone." She broke down and started sobbing and Ducky gently helped her to her feet and guided her to the door.

Ducky knew that while Sarah was visiting her brother in ICU, the group had moved from the main waiting room outside the emergency department to the more private waiting area attached to the intensive care wing of Bethesda, so he steered Sarah to one of the small family rooms inside the ICU unit. Once Sarah was curled up in the overstuffed chair, he let her cry herself out before handing her a handkerchief.

After Sarah dried her face she sat up, twisting the linen cloth she was still clutching. "Why wouldn't Agent Gibbs help my brother?"

"Oh Sarah." Ducky pulled one of the chairs closer and sat down as he rubbed his eyes. "I am afraid that the failure was much more mine that Gibbs."

"I... I don't understand."

"As I understand it, Timothy was only able to tell Jethro that his father was arriving in town. None of us had any inkling that meant any kind of trouble. Yes, Jethro was stressed and short tempered that day, but if he'd known, he never would have turned his back. Myself, on the other hand..." Ducky paused as he pulled his glasses off and then put them back on. "Your brother came to me for advice the morning of the fire. He asked me how does one..." Ducky struggled for a moment to remember the exact words. "How do you determine when a parent's mental deterioration is beyond what you can deal with on your own? That is what he asked me. It was a cry for help and I was so wrapped up in my own difficulties that I didn't hear the truth behind his question, my dear, and for that I am truly sorry. You see, Sarah, my own mother had been slipping away from me for years from Alzheimer's and earlier that morning she had finally passed."

Sarah sat up straighter as she stared at Ducky. "Tim didn't know about your mom?"

"No, he didn't. No one did, in fact, they still don't."

"I don't understand, why not?" Ducky was relieved to see only curiosity, not anger on her face.

"I deal with death every day, and now... now I would prefer that our friends concentrate on Timothy's needs, not mine. Mother had a long, full life and I truly regret not being there for your brother, especially..." Ducky waited until Sarah looked up. "Especially because Jethro expects me to be his back up when one of his agents is struggling."

"Like Tim?"

"Like Tim."

---NCIS---

Ziva walked over to join Tony at the window, looking out at the lights shining down on the parking lot. This waiting room was much quieter than the one downstairs. "Are you all right?"

He shrugged and shook his head. "If McGee hadn't been sacrificed because of it, I'd have liked the fact that Gibbs... Am I that needy, Ziva?

She started to give him a flip answer before seeing his expression. Not knowing what to say, she laid her hand on his shoulder.

"Is there any word?"

Both Tony and Ziva jumped at the intrusion. Ziva recovered quickest. "Director Vance, Mrs. Vance, McGee is still alive, but his injuries are very grave."

Vance nodded and looked around. "Where's Sarah?"

Tony didn't need to answer, as the door to the ICU unit opened and Ducky walked Sarah out. She looked exhausted as he guided her to one of the sofas in the room. Jackie moved to join them, pulling a blanket out of her tote. It was made of soft fleece and covered with images of running horses. "Hello, Sarah, my name is Jackie Vance." She smoothed Sarah's hair back. "Did you get to see your brother?"

Everyone listened closely, anxious for news. "They were putting him in a coma, but I think he knew I was there."

"That's wonderful, Sarah. I'm sure it helped him to know that you're all right." Jackie helped Sarah shift around and pull her legs up onto the cushions before covering her with the blanket. "Now, you should try to get some rest. I promise that one of us will wake you if anything happens, all right?"

Sarah pulled the blanket close and rubbed her face on the soft fabric. "Mmm, I was so crazy about horses when I was younger."

Jackie smiled as she finished smoothing the blanket. "Little girls and their horses."

"I wanted riding lessons but we didn't have the money." Behind the two women, the rest of the team listened, wondering how much the two siblings sacrificed to the expense of their father's addiction. Sarah's next words took Gibbs' breath away. "Timmy spent a whole summer cleaning porta-potties to give me riding lessons for my birthday."

"He sounds like a very good big brother." Jackie blinked back tears as she sat next to Sarah. The rest of the group moved to another set of chairs to give Sarah the illusion of privacy as she closed her eyes.

Gibbs sat across from Ducky, staring at his hands. There was no mistaking the strain in his voice. "Earlier, you said you didn't have enough information to explain. Why wouldn't he stand up to me, Ducky? McGee's grown, matured into a fine agent. He doesn't back down anymore when he thinks I'm in the wrong."

Ducky nodded. Off to the side, Greg Hall listened, wondering if they were ready to understand the difficulties faced by Tim and Sarah. "You're right, Jethro. Agent McGee would not have backed down if he thought you'd misunderstood or weren't listening to something that was important."

"Then why..."

"He wasn't speaking to you as one of your agents. He was speaking to you as the son of William McGee." When Gibbs just looked at him in confusion, Ducky stood and began pacing. "They knew, Jethro, they knew. All those years and commanding officer after commanding officer ignored the warning signs and left young Timothy to clean up after his father. I'm afraid he expected to be let down again."

Usually by now, Gibbs would be pushing him along, but he knew he needed to understand, and right now he didn't. Ducky nodded as he carried on. "Children of alcoholics tend to fall into familiar patterns, even as adults, when dealing with their alcoholic parent. We saw it first a few weeks ago with Tony. In a matter of hours you watched him revert back to an out of control schoolboy."

Finally, Gibbs was starting to understand as he remembered finding DiNozzo in the hotel suite partying it up with Prince Sayif and a pretty yoga instructor, still remembered the feel of the cowboy hat in his hand as he'd whacked the wayward agent. Behind him, DiNozzo hung his head in embarrassment. "Yeah, okay, and McGee's pattern?"

"Well, from the limited information I have so far, I'd say that Timothy's response would be: protect his sister, minimize the damage his father could do, and protect his sister."

"Umm, Dr. Mallard, you said protect his sister, twice."

"Yes, Jimmy, I know. Remember when she was framed for murder? He was almost frantic to protect her."

Gibbs remembered all too well. "Proving her innocence was more important to him than his own career. It was the first time he really stood up to me, and I was so damn proud of him."

"Did he every know that?" Ziva wasn't ready to let go.

A soft smile crossed Gibbs' face as he remembered their conversation in the elevator. "Yeah, Ziva, he knew."

Behind all of them, Sarah opened her eyes for a moment, remembering how safe Tim had made her feel and how Gibbs had made sure she knew of her brother's sacrifice.


	23. Chapter 23

**a/n - A short interlude as the team gets an education, and yes, all the information they are given is real. I think you'll see why I felt this fit our characters so well, especially Tim and Tony. Thank you all so much for your reviews and well wishes. I am still on the mend, but I am feeling better each day.**

Gibbs stared at his cold coffee for almost an hour before he turned to the wheelchair bound man in the room. "Is Ducky right about why McGee didn't push me?"

Greg Hall looked over his shoulder at Sarah as she sat up and moved to a closer chair, the blanket wrapped around her. "I've spent the last twenty years working with the children of alcoholics, both young and adult children, Agent Gibbs. All those kids, and you can separate them into just four types by how they respond to their parents' drinking. Survival techniques, if you will."

"Four types, that's all?"

He gave a sad smile. "I think you'll recognize that Tim is the hero child. He took on all the family responsibilities, became a surrogate parent for his younger sister, tried to be good enough to make up for all the family's problems. I don't know Tim personally very well, but he's probably still an overachiever that struggles with feelings of low self-worth. He's a perfectionist and very responsible, but ignores his own needs and wants and has difficulty establishing intimate relationships. Deep down, he has a very consuming fear of rejection."

Ducky shook his head. "Do you have a degree in psychology, Mr. Hall? You've certainly hit our Timothy's strengths and weaknesses right on the head."

"I don't need the degree, Dr. Mallard, there's been quite a bit of research done over the years." Before Greg could say anything else, Sarah broke into the conversation.

"I had the potential of becoming the scapegoat child, but Tim wouldn't let that happen, so, instead, I became the lost child. Tim protected me, made sure that I stayed under the radar when Daddy was angry."

"The lost child, that sounds so sad." Abby's eyes were huge as she took it all in. She thought she understood her friend, but was quickly realizing she'd only scratched the surface.

Sarah shrugged as she bit her lip. "In some ways I had it easy. I got to stay in the background, live in a fantasy world when things got too bad."

Sacks had been quiet up until then. "By the time my father was out of the picture, I'd perfected being the scapegoat kid. I guess I figured if I got into enough trouble, people wouldn't notice the fact that my old man was passed out drunk in the corner. It took me a long time to realize that I was just hurting myself."

It was quiet for a moment before Ziva spoke up. "That is only three."

Greg quietly laughed before telling of the fourth child. As he talked, Sarah and Ron both looked over at Tony. "The fourth behavioral role is the mascot, often called the clown. This child uses humor to minimize the alcohol issues in the family. They're the comic relief, always ready with a joke to defuse a stressful situation. As adults they're attention seekers, the life of the party at least on the surface. Deep down, they're very insecure and like the hero child, tend to feel as if they are somehow unworthy."

Feeling even more eyes on him, Tony stared at the far wall, refusing to acknowledge any of them.

---NCIS---

"What about the rest of your family, why did none of them step in when your father started drinking?" Sarah looked up at Ziva's question, but then stared at her feet when she answered.

"You mean like my mom."

It had been the elephant in the room, but both Ducky and Gibbs glared at Ziva for bringing it up. As much as they also questioned why Julia McGee had not taken her children away from their abusive, alcoholic father, they did not want to force Sarah to discuss her murdered mother's failures.

Ziva instantly realized the insensitivity of her question. "I am sorry, Sarah."

"No, it's okay. Mom... Mom was seven when her father wrapped his car around a tree coming home from the neighborhood bar at two in the morning. She was seventeen when her stepfather died of cirrhosis of the liver."

"She grew up in an alcoholic home?" Ducky knew he had a lot to learn about the family dynamics when an addiction was involved, but he could see the pattern involved.

Sarah finally looked up. "As did her mother before her. We Harrison women have a long history of picking losers to hook up with. I guess that explains why Tim is so particular about who I date."

Gibbs silently vowed to never interfere the next time McGee was running a background check on a college frat boy. "What about your father's side of the family?"

"There's just Uncle Mike." Sarah answered the question, but she wouldn't look at Gibbs. "He never believed that Daddy actually drank enough for it to be a problem."

Greg could feel the protests that were forming and interrupted before anyone could say anything. "It can be very difficult for family members to accept the diagnosis of alcoholism when they aren't exposed to the day to day behavior of the drunk, especially in William's case because he was a Delta drinker for most of his life."

"What is a Delta drinker?" Tony's head was swimming. "What does that mean?"

Everyone stilled, waiting for the explanation. Greg glanced at Sarah briefly before starting. "The biggest difference is that a Delta alcoholic is dependent on the alcohol they consumes, but never loses visible control, so they can hide their addiction from everyone but their closest family. That is, as long as their source of alcohol never dries up, because they literally cannot go one day without drinking. Otherwise, they go into withdrawal."

"The longer he went and the more people he fooled..."

"The harder it was for anyone to call him on it because it would be awkward for his previous commanders." As much as he hated it, Vance could see how this problem drinker who managed to still get the job done was passed on rather than confronted. "It was easier to pass the problem on by transferring the man. That much was obvious when we spoke to Lieutenant Commander Braxton and Vice Admiral Cooper."

Tony looked up in shock. "You were already checking into the old man?"

"Yes, we were." Gibbs interrupted before Vance could say anything else, rubbing his temple as he tried to explain.

"I may have been slow, but eventually I did realize that I screwed up, DiNozzo. I knew that it started when I didn't take the time to listen to him about his father, and I knew that I only had one shot at fixing things." Gibbs continued on, reviewing the various conversations he'd had with officers both under and over the senior McGee throughout his years in the Navy. He ended with the page Tim had left behind in the printer.

Vance picked up the narrative when Gibbs' voice trailed off. "It wasn't until Mr. Palmer came to Agent Gibbs and told him what he'd overheard in Miss Sciuto's lab and that William had tricked him into purchasing alcohol that we were able to piece everything together. When we pressed him, Vice Admiral Cooper confirmed that eventually they'd forced William to take an early retirement because of his alcoholism."

"That was when the Iowa State Patrol called me about Tim and Sarah's mother. Tim had given them my number as a back up." Hours of worrying and crying had removed Abby's make-up and left her eyes red and irritated. "Gibbs called you right away, but..."

"By then it was too late." Tony closed his eyes as he shook his head. "If I hadn't stopped to yell at you, we would have gotten there in time to save Tim."

"Stop it, all of you." Jackie Vance was standing, her hands on her hips. "All of this blame game and could have's and would have's won't solve anything. Tim and Sarah are going to need help from all of us and they don't need any of you wasting your energy worrying about what could have been done differently. "

---NCIS---

"Director Vance, you can't be serious."

DiNozzo may have been the spokesman, but Vance knew he was speaking for the entire group. It had been a quiet two hours since Jackie had laid down the law, and a long night loomed ahead. "No matter how much as we may wish, Tim is not going to wake up tomorrow morning fully recovered. If we expect to be there for he and Sarah all the way through this, then we've got to pace ourselves. That means we take shifts. Dr. Mallard and Abby will stay here with Sarah tonight, everyone else go home and get some rest." He held his hand up. "Not open for discussion, people. Mr. Palmer, you will ride with us."

Palmer looked stunned, but the barked orders got the rest of the group moving. Not surprisingly, the FBI agents had their own plans and Fornell took Greg with him as Sacks settled in for the night. When Tony saw Sacks remaining behind, he considered defying Vance, but Ziva gave him no choice.


	24. Chapter 24

**a/n - A shifting of focus as we move onto the recovery - for everyone. Glad you're still with me.**

Gibbs hadn't even gotten a good rhythm going on the wood he was sanding when Fornell came down the basement stairs. He watched the bearded man as he leaned back against the workbench, eying the bottle of bourbon up on the shelf, but Gibbs didn't take the bottle down and offer it.

"You okay?"

"What do you think?" He continued sanding, not even looking up when more footsteps were heard on the stairs.

Fornell looked over his shoulder and watched as Tony and Ziva both settled on one of the steps to watch their boss. "If it helps, Gibbs, I don't think McGee planned on my grabbing him when he applied for a transfer. He was surprised when Sacks ended up being Sarah's contact at the support group." When he didn't get a response, he kept going. "You know how it is, sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger, it's less personal."

Gibbs dropped the sandpaper onto the bench. "Is that suppose to make me feel better, Tobias?"

"He really didn't let us help him either. We forced our help on him a few times, but he wouldn't ask.

"I don't think he could ask, not really." Both team leaders jumped when Tony started speaking. Tony didn't look at either of them, he stared at his hands as he spoke. "You've always told the three of us that your door was always open. Nobody had ever made that kind of offer to me before, so I had to challenge it. You could have knocked me over with a feather the first time I tried your door and saw that it didn't even have a lock."

"I did the same thing, Gibbs." Ziva picked up when Tony stopped talking. "My father raised us to be good little soldiers, but he had no interest beyond what we could do for him and for Mossad. Knowing I could come to you at any time gave me a great deal of security. It was when I forgot your offer that I fell into trouble."

Gibbs finally turned to look at his two agents. "Your father manipulated you into that, Ziva."

"And McGee's father manipulated him. The only difference is that we did not know it, and we could not know it because McGee had been trained most of his life to hide his family's secrets."

"He couldn't take the risk that I'd be like that long string of his father's commanding officers. Just telling him that my door was open wasn't enough, and I never knew I had to prove it to him. Damn it, I never knew." Gibbs turned back to face the workbench, leaning hard against it with both hands as he let his head drop.

"Boss?"

Tobias looked back and forth between Gibbs and his two agents on the stairs, feeling like he was intruding, but knowing that drawing attention to himself by leaving would make it worse.

Gibbs didn't raise his head. "Do you remember the Erin Kendall case, Tony?"

"The witness that got killed just a few months after he joined the team? Yeah, he took it pretty hard when he couldn't save her. I remember he wrote a sympathy letter to her parents, and you told him your door was open if he needed to talk."

"Yeah, I came back from getting coffee and McGee was on the phone with his dad. I thought good for him, he could go to his old man when he needed support. After that, I never pushed, I didn't want to interfere."

Fornell pushed away from the table and pressed a hand against Gibbs' shoulder for a second. "Any senior agent would have made the same assumptions." He was halfway to the stairs before Gibbs answered him.

"I know the paperwork is there to put him in the FBI, Tobias, but we're the only family he and Sarah have left."

One foot on the bottom step, Fornell knew what he was being asked. "I'll take care of it, Jethro."

When they heard the front door close, Gibbs took a good look at the two still sitting on the steps. "Go home, get some rest. Vance was right, we're no good to them if we're exhausted."

Ziva retreated without argument, but Tony stopped part way up. "What I said earlier, Boss? I was out of line."

"No, you weren't, DiNozzo." Gibbs picked up the sandpaper and resumed sanding. "I let something come before the safety of a member of my team. That's a mistake I'm going to have to learn to live with. I just hope that Tim can just live through it."

---NCIS---

It was hours before dawn when Gibbs arrived at the hospital. As expected, Abby was asleep in one chair, while Ducky dozed in another. On the far side of the room, Sacks was staring out the window, watching the parking lot. The blanket Jackie had left for Sarah was on the sofa, but the young woman was nowhere to be seen. A few words with a nurse confirmed that she was with her brother, a few more words got him permission to see his agent through the glass wall. It wasn't enough, but it was more than he had expected.

Gibbs clung to the window frame and moaned as he stared at the injured man in the bed. Bruised and swollen, he would have never recognized that still form as the brilliant young man that worked computer miracles for him as if it were the easiest thing in the world. Sarah looked up at him briefly before returning her full attention to her brother, carefully dampening his lips with a wet cloth as she softly spoke to him.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before Ducky joined him outside McGee's room. "You're here early, Jethro. Did you get any sleep?"

"How is he, Duck?"

Ducky was standing in back of him, but he could have seen Ducky's worried expression if he'd been looking at their reflections. "They've decided to set his jaw and his arm later today."

"That's good, right?" Gibbs still had not looked away from Tim.

"Normally, it would be." Ducky watched Gibbs closely as he explained. "They would prefer to do the surgery after he's more stable, but he's struggling to breathe and his blood oxygen level is too low."

Gibbs still didn't look up at him, and he didn't say anything, but Ducky saw his fingers tighten on the wooden frame around the window. Knowing he was being heard, Ducky continued. "The hope is that stabilizing his jaw will improve his airway. The less trips to the operating room the easier it will be on McGee, so they'll put the plate in his arm at the same time."

Ducky watched his old friend struggle with his own breathing before resting a hand on his back. "Our Timothy is a fighter, Jethro. We must have faith."

---NCIS---

The sky was just turning pink when Tony arrived in the waiting room with a tray of coffees. He set the tray down on the table next to the sleeping Abby before taking one cup and joining Sacks at the window. Sacks accepted the cup with a nod before returning his attention to the cars arriving for the upcoming shift change.

"Can I ask you something?"

Ron nodded without turning away from the view. "Sure, man."

Tony mirrored him, staring out the window and not looking at Sacks. "That line between being a social drinker, and an alcoholic... how do you know if your parent has crossed it?"

"If you have to ask," Ron turned to look Tony in the eye. "you've got your answer."

"Damn."

"Welcome to the club, man."


	25. Chapter 25

**a/n - A quiet chapter as we wait on Tim and our characters have a few important discussions. Enjoy the chance to catch your breath, you're going to need it. Yes, that was a hint. In the meantime, I have to complain. **

**Many of you that have been with me for a while know how upset I was when a friend had her current WIP stolen and posted here on . You guys were amazing at letting the thief know how wrong she was. Well, she's back and she's stolen the SAME STORY AGAIN. Talk about nerve. This time she has changed more of the words, but it is the same plot, line for line. I got a little curious and checked one of her other stories and found that is someone else's work too. Get this, she marked the original story as a favorite. That takes a heck of a lot of nerve. Her current username is TimMcGeeEqualsBoss (she changed it after she got caught the last time.) and the two stories we know she stole are _Don't Stand a Chance_ and _Phantom_.**

* * *

Jackie arrived at the hospital just thirty minutes after she dropped the kids off at school and immediately ushered Sarah down to the cafeteria. The family only rule had not been lifted, so Gibbs stayed out in the hall to watch over his injured man, only retreating to the waiting room when the specialists came in to examine him again. Tony handed him a lukewarm coffee and he sat, lost in thought.

Abby moved over to sit next to Gibbs , wrapping her hands around his arm and resting her chin on his shoulder. "He's going to be okay, Gibbs, Timmy won't leave us."

"He wanted to, Abs." Tony joined them, sitting across from Gibbs.

She shook her head. "No he didn't, not really. I think he was ashamed and embarrassed and felt trapped by his dad. That first day, he really had to rush to tell me his dad was an alcoholic, like he had to get the words out before he lost them. I didn't get it at first, but it seemed that the later it went, the harder it was for him to talk about it. I made him call me every day, and he'd started stuttering again when I asked him about his dad. McGee hasn't stuttered in years, I should have known." She shifted to lay her cheek on Gibbs' shoulder. He pressed the side of his face against her head for a split second.

"It was his way of protecting your, Abs."

---NCIS---

McGee had been in surgery for almost an hour by the time Ziva arrived at Bethesda. With a brief nod to Gibbs, she sat next to Sarah in the corner of the waiting room. Over Sarah's bowed head, Jackie gave her a questioning look and Ziva gave her a slight smile in return before shifting her attention to Sarah. "I just finished speaking to the District Attorney's office, Sarah. They are not filing any charges against you and the case will be closed soon."

"But I killed my own father, how could they not want to punish me?"

Ziva gently laid her hand on Sarah's arm, just above the bruise. "What would have happened to your brother if you had not stopped your father?"

"Daddy would have killed him."

"You had no choice, Sarah."

Still looking down, she shook her head, guilt more powerful than logic. "But..."

"Did your brother ever tell you about Ari?"

Sarah had heard about him, of course, but she was sure Tim had told her a sanitized version as to not frighten her. "He was a terrorist that killed Agent Todd, and... and he was your brother."

The room stilled as Ziva continued. "That is correct. Ari tried to kill hundreds of Navy dependents in a n act of terrorism and when the team stopped his plan he shot Kate. He was not going to stop, and his next target was Gibbs. He broke into Gibbs' home and before he could shoot Gibbs, I shot him."

Sarah finally looked up, her eyes huge. "You killed your own brother? How do you live with it?"

Ziva looked down at their now joined hands. "Sometimes it is very difficult, but I remind myself that it was necessary, that his hate and anger had turned him into someone I did not know. The brother of my childhood was already dead, killed by the monster that took over his soul. I know it is very difficult right now, but you have a great deal of support, both you and your brother."

---NCIS---

"Dr. Mallard, it's really late and you were at the hospital most of the day. Are you sure you want to do this tonight?" Jimmy watched his mentor closely, Ducky was starting to show the strain of the last day and a half.

Ducky uses much more force than usual as he started to open William McGee's chest. "They are waiting for the autopsy results to finish up the case. It is the least I can do for Timothy and his dear sister." He turned to the body on the table. "Well, William, let's see if we can determine just why you were such a monster."

Of the five shots that hit the torso, any one of three could have been the fatal shot, but Ducky suspected it was the one that hit high on the right side of the chest, shattering a rib, the bone fragment tearing through a major vein. The blood loss from that one wound was massive and the man had literally drowned in his own blood if the blood filled lung was any indication.

Cause of death determined, Ducky moved on to remove the liver and took a sample for testing. Jimmy prepared the slide and whistled when he looked through the microscope. "Wow, Dr. Mallard, this is even worse than the samples they showed us at school. There's more scar tissue than liver. Why wasn't he showing any outward signs of cirrhosis?"

"It is an odd twist of fate, Mr. Palmer, that allows such things. No doubt if this man had taken care of himself instead of pickling his internal organs, he would have had an exceptionally long life." Ducky set aside the top of the skull and carefully removed the brain. "I suspect that while at sea, William had to get creative in finding sources of alcohol, and not all of his sources were truly fit to drink." A calculated slice with a scalpel, then another, and he had a cross-section of brain tissue. The microscope wasn't necessary yet, the large magnifying glass with the light surrounding it showed the odd texture of the tissue.

Jimmy stared at it closely. "I've heard stories about alcoholics who get exposed to mercury and lead from contaminated pipes in homemade stills."

"Among many contaminates, and I believe you are looking at an excellent example right here, Mr. Palmer."

"What a waste."

"Indeed, and speaking of waste, we have spent enough time on this vile excuse of a man. Let me preserve these samples for later testing if need be, and you sew him back up. It is time we focus on the living."

"Yes, Dr. Mallard."

Jimmy didn't move, however, and Ducky returned to his side, waiting for him to say what was on his mind. "Is there something else, Mr. Palmer?"

"He was just so convincing. I feel so guilty about being taken in by him."

"Don't feel too bad. By all appearances, he'd been fooling people for longer than you've been alive. It's one of the reasons I prefer to work with the dead. They're not nearly so adept at lying."


	26. Chapter 26

**a/n - You guys rock. Our plagiarist has removed the stories she stole, then she removed her other two stories, then she changed her user name, then she removed her list of favorites, then she changed her username back. Busy girl. She claims she doesn't understand why we're so mean to her. With that attitude, I'm sure she'll be back. We'll be watching. Anyway, thank you all.**

**Things are picking up speed again for our team, brace yourselves.**

* * *

After another restless night, Gibbs was back at the hospital well before dawn. It had been Tony and Ziva's turn to stay that night, but it was only Ziva in the waiting room. When Gibbs arrived, she gave him a quick run down. "Sarah went to take a walk, she said she needed a few minutes alone, but she gave permission for Tony to be in with McGee."

"That's good." It was, but Ziva saw the strange expression on Gibbs' face.

"It is a start, yes? She is still very hurt and angry, Gibbs, but at least now she will allow Tony, Abby and I in the room to see him."

"You're right, it's a start." Gibbs looked away, but not quickly enough to hide the raw pain in his eyes.

She caught his arm before he could move away. "I will speak to Sarah. McGee would not want her to hurt you like this."

"She needs her anger, it's the only thing that's keeping her going right now. You know that."

Ziva did know that, remembering quite clearly her own words when Paula Cassidy lost her team to a terrorist bomb. She had been the target of Paula's anger, but as a stranger, it didn't hurt Ziva. It also did not feed any feeling of guilt in her as it obviously was in Gibbs. "But Gibbs..."

"I'm a big boy, Ziva. I can take it."

Neither of them noticed the pale, brown haired girl hovering in the doorway.

---NCIS---

Tony stood over the hospital bed, not knowing where he could touch his friend and not cause more pain. The nurse that had brought him back here had assured him that McGee was not suffering, was deep in a medically induced coma, but he wasn't convinced. "Oh man, Probie, you're so darn good at hiding your pain, how can they know if you're suffering or not?"

There was no answer and he settled for laying his hand on the pillow above Tim's head. "You're going to be pissed when you see what they did to your hair so they could stitch up your scalp. I think we're just going to have to give you a buzz cut and let it start over again. But you are going to let it grow out again, because you just don't look that good in a buzz. No more cheap barbers, though. When we get you back on your feet I'll take you to my stylist and she'll fix you right up."

Spent and unable to keep up the illusion of the joker any longer, Tony dropped into the chair, resting his arms on the rail of the bed. "I'm sorry, Tim, I should have known something was wrong. Not just when your dad got in town, but before that. You never talked about your family. I know more about the bases you lived on than I know about your parents. Heck, that many bases, I should have known something was wrong. Nobody gets transferred that often, not without a lot of promotions along the way."

Tony watched as a nurse came in and changed the IV bag, but McGee did not move at all. She was cute, but he couldn't even muster up the enthusiasm to flirt with her. Once she closed the door behind her, he leaned forward again, laying his head on his arms, still crossed on the railing. "Did you see that, Probie? I can't even hit on a pretty girl without my wingman. We need you back, buddy, we need you back soon."

---NCIS---

It was still too early for any of the coffee shops to be open, so Gibbs went in search of the vending machines. As he closed in on the prize, he discovered that Sarah was already there, along with a slightly familiar man. It took him a moment to put a name to the face, but he soon knew that retired Vice Admiral Cooper was the man apparently trying to intimidate Sarah, and Gibbs moved to intercept the man.

"Leave me alone, please." Sarah found herself cornered in the small alcove by the older man, and started to panic. "I don't know what you think I told them."

"NCIS was investigating your father. I had to explain myself to the Director and some agent. Do you know how embarrassing that was?"

Gibbs stepped in and blocked Cooper from getting any closer to Sarah. "Probably not nearly as embarrassing as the fact that you covered up his drinking for years, but what I don't get is why. Why turn your back on the situation? Why leave his kids to deal with the problem?"

Cooper glared at him. "You wouldn't understand."

"You're right, I probably wouldn't." Gibbs started herding Cooper away from Sarah and nearer to the door that lead to the parking lot. "It's bad enough that I let McGee get hurt on my watch, because I didn't know about his father, but you..." Gibbs poked hard at the man, his voice raising. "You knew. All the time he was under your command, you knew, and you did nothing to protect those kids. Now you're worried about what? Being embarrassed? Just get out of here." By now Gibbs had him backed up to the door.

"William McGee was a fine officer." Cooper wasn't used to anyone trying to intimidate him.

"Maybe so." Gibbs leaned into his personal space. "But he was a lousy man and the Navy is supposed to care about both. If I see you anywhere near Sarah or her brother again, I'll make sure there's a restraining order filed. Let's see how embarrassing that will be."

Cooper continued to glare, but didn't say anything else before he stormed out the door Gibbs was holding open for him. Gibbs fought back the urge to slam the glass door, instead closing it quietly before turning around to find Sarah struggling with the vending machine, her hand shaking too badly to get the dollar bill into the slot. Not saying a word, he pulled four quarters out of his pocket and fed them to the machine before pushing the button for the coffee with light cream he knew Sarah had been drinking since arriving at the hospital. Ziva was standing at the end of the hall, having heard the confrontation and he squeezed Sarah's shoulder once before leaving her to the other woman.

---NCIS---

By the time Gibbs arrived back in the waiting room, the rest of the team had arrived. Abby had a box of pastries and donuts for everyone and Vance arrived with a stack of paperwork that he doled out. "I have no real problem with having my top team grounded under the circumstances, but allow me the illusion that something is getting done."

Tony stared at the papers set in front of him, but Ziva was the first one to pick up her pile. "It will at least pass the time."

Once most of them were reviewing files, Gibbs sat across from Vance and told him about the visit from Vice Admiral Cooper, warning him that the SecNav would probably hear about it. Vance rolled his eyes, but didn't comment. He, too, was concerned about the apparent break down in communications that had allowed an alcoholic to maintain his position in the Navy for so many years. When he saw that Sarah was listening quietly, he moved to sit next to her. "Sarah, we're still trying to piece together just how so many officers passed your father's problems along. Do you feel up to answering some questions?"

She looked exhausted, but nodded. "Sure, I guess."

"Your father was forced into rehab the first time because of an incident involving your brother." Vance leaned forward and took Sarah's hand. "I checked and Tim was admitted to the base hospital the day after your father returned from a deployment at sea. His elbow was dislocated and his shoulder was separated. The doctor that treated him also noted hand shaped bruises on his injured arm. It was this official report of child abuse that forced them to act."

Much to everyone's amazement, Sarah laughed as she pulled away from Vance to tuck her hair behind her ears. "It's ironic, really. The one time that it wasn't Daddy that hurt Tim and he got caught for it."

Tony gave up all pretense of working. "Then who was it? Who hurt Tim?"

"Mom really loved being a Navy wife." It wasn't the answer they were expecting, but they waited and listened. "She loved Dad's rank and the social standing that came from it. Daddy was high enough in rank that she could have tea with the Admiral's wife, but she could still socialize with the younger wives. Daddy was a legend to the enlisted men and the lower officers, so their wives and girlfriends looked up to Mom."

Sarah stopped, staring into space as she remembered. When she finally started talking again, she wouldn't look at any of them, instead, she spoke to the floor. "Whenever the ship came back to port, most of the kids didn't go to school so that they could go meet the ship at the dock. Tim always stayed home because he was sick."

"Nerves?"

Her eyes flickered up for a second at Abby's question. "Yeah, he had an ulcer and that time it was so bad that he was throwing up blood." Sarah didn't react to the shocked murmurers.

"You know how Tim had to redo most of Dad's reports?" She gave a bitter laugh. "The one thing Dad couldn't do drunk was type."

Vance had a sick idea of where this was going. "That night your brother was too ill to fix the paperwork, wasn't he?"

"The rumors about Daddy's drinking were beginning to spread and Mom was frantic to keep up appearances. When Tim wouldn't get out of bed to work on the report, she just lost it. She was telling him that we were going to get kicked out of the Navy and end up on the street and it would all be his fault. She kept slapping him and then she grabbed him and pulled him out of bed. His arm made this weird popping sound." Sarah shuddered and finally looked up at Vance. "She wouldn't stop long enough for him to stand up, she just dragged him down the hall to the study. She wouldn't let him leave the desk until the report was perfect."

It was easy for the Director to put the rest together. "When his injuries were finally treated, it was obvious that he'd been abused, and with the rumors about your father's drinking..."

"Like I said, ironic."

The group was silent for a few minutes before Ziva spoke up. "Sarah, what did you mean about your father being a legend to the enlisted men?

"It was an ongoing challenge. When one of the recruits would turn twenty-one, he and his friends would go out drinking and Daddy would join them, challenge them to keep up with him, drink for drink. They all tried, over and over, but nobody could drink Old Man McGee under the table. The joke was that the man was immortal." Sarah's voice broke on the last word, and Ziva wrapped her arms around her, letting her cry.

---NCIS---

It was late afternoon when Ducky pulled the group into one of the smaller family waiting rooms, after leaving Sarah at her brother's bedside. One look at his face told them that the news wasn't good. "Timothy's body is beginning to shut down."

Gibbs was the first to react. "Duck, what are you saying?"

The other man looked old and worn as he pulled his glasses off to pinch the bridge of his nose. "His blood oxygen level is continuing to slowly drop and his breathing is becoming weaker and shallower."

"So, they're going to have to put him on a ventilator until he's stronger, right?"

"I'm sorry, Tony. The doctor's feel that if they did that, it would be permanent. His body would probably never relearn to breathe on it's own again. Timothy has a living will and was quite adamant that he does not want to linger that way."

Abby started to cry. "But, Ducky, there has to be something."

"They've stopped the medications that are keeping him in the coma, in hope that he will start fighting again. By morning, we should know if it will do any good."

Tony was holding Ziva's hand and rubbing Abby's back. "What do we do tonight?"

"Tonight, we pray."


	27. Chapter 27

**a/n - Thanks all, you've been amazing. I'm still sick, but slowly getting better. I need a couple of weeks of warm and dry weather to finally get over this. Unfortunately, I thought we were going to need to build an ark yesterday. Anyway, thank you for your help getting rid of the plagiarist. She removed all of her stories and changed her name several times and is now back with a new story. If it's a stolen story, she's butchered it so badly I haven't recognized it yet. She's still claiming that she didn't steal the last story, but I do hate to break it to her, if you copy the plot of a story point by point, it's still plagiarism.**

**On to the next chapter. I have just one warning. Stop, go get tissues before you read. You will need them.**

* * *

None of the team went home that night, and Vance didn't push the subject before he left. After a long day in court, Fornell arrived early the next morning. When the nurse walked Sarah out to the waiting area so the doctors could examine Tim again, Fornell moved to sit next to her. "How are you holding up, Sarah?"

She shrugged as she shoved her now lanky hair behind her ears. "I'm okay, I guess. I just want him to wake up, you know? I can handle everything else as long as I still have my big brother. I guess, no matter what, it's going to be a while before he's working with you, Agent Fornell."

"Actually, that is something I need to talk to you about, Sarah." Fornell leaned forward and took her hand. She stared at his hand wrapped around hers.

"Let me guess, the FBI doesn't want him anymore."

He winced at her bitter tone, but kept his own voice calm. "It's not a matter of want. The final paperwork didn't have time to go through. Your brother's only option for medical coverage and sick leave is still through NCIS, so he needs to stay there until he's recovered. Besides, he's got a lot more friends there than I think he realized and they want to be able to help him." She still didn't look convinced, so he bent his head down enough to look her in the eye. "Sarah, I give you my word. When he recovers, if he still wants that transfer, I will personally hand deliver his paperwork to my Director, but I have a suspicion that he's going to discover that he's where he wants to be."

---NCIS---

When Sarah and Ducky left to talk to Tim's neurologist, the team found themselves in limbo. Abby curled up in the chair next to Gibbs and leaned against him. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

She didn't look up. "I should have told someone what he was going through."

"I wish you had." Gibbs leaned down and kissed her forehead. "But I understand why you didn't. You kept your word and that was very important to him. He trusted you and you didn't let him down."

"If you had known, you wouldn't have let him down either."

His smile was slight and sad as he thought back over the near misses over the last week. "Let's just hope we get the chance for me to finally earn his trust."

Abby didn't consider the conversation over, but Ducky's arrival stopped everything. One look at his face and they knew it wasn't good news he was bringing.

Gibbs was the first on his feet. "Ducky?"

Ducky carefully removed his glasses and slowly folded them, giving himself time to gather his thoughts and emotions. "The drugs have been out of his system for several hours now, but Timothy shows no signs of increased awareness and his breathing is continuing to slow. It is time that we face facts, he is slipping away from us."

"There has to be something they can do." Gibbs was speechless, so Tony became the spokesman of the group, flanked by Abby and Ziva. "We can't just sit here and watch him die."

"If we are to abide by his wishes, there is nothing else we can do. The one thing he never wanted was to be kept alive by artificial means, and Sarah has made the very difficult decision not to deny his last request. It is time to come say your goodbyes to him, I'm afraid." To get the stunned group moving, Ducky stepped back and opened the door into the ICU unit. Tony and the two ladies were the first ones through followed by Jimmy. While Fornell stayed in the waiting room and made some necessary phone calls, Ducky steered Gibbs through the door and let it close behind them.

---NCIS---

Still in command of the group, Tony sent Jimmy into McGee's room first, recognizing the guilt that still shadowed the young man's face. Jimmy froze in the doorway, but a shooing motion by Tony got him the rest of the way inside.

"Hello, Jimmy, Tim always spoke very highly of you." Sarah looked up for just a minute before returning her attention to the still figure in the bed. "Tim, Jimmy is here to see you." She still hoped for some signal, some flicker of awareness, but after a moment she moved away from the bedside to give Palmer the illusion of privacy as he said his final goodbyes.

"Hey, Tim." Jimmy leaned over the bed, quickly losing the smile he had plastered on only moments earlier. "I am so sorry. He was drunk on the alcohol from me when he beat you. He tricked me. Everybody keeps telling me it's not my fault, that he would have gotten it another way. But it doesn't change the facts, and now I have to live with it."

Jimmy's voice faltered as he took off his glasses and wiped at his eyes. "I've always been the gullible one, but you never really teased me about it, not like the others. I should have told you how much I appreciated that, but I guess I thought there was time. That was stupid because you guys have dangerous jobs and you could have gotten killed anytime. This is worse, though. Your dad is suppose to love you and take care of you, not..."

It took another minute for Jimmy to continue. "We all wish we could take this week back and do it differently, and I wish, somehow, you could forgive us."

---NCIS---

When Palmer stumbled out of the room, Ziva squeezed his arm and then took his place at the bed. "Oh, McGee, you were the first one to befriend me when I joined the team, and I cannot remember if I ever thanked you for that. I probably did not, and for that I am sorry. I made more of an effort to thank you for showing me the shortcuts around town than I ever did for your kindness."

Ziva paused as she pulled the chair close and sat down, trying to gather her thoughts. "My mother would have called you a gentle soul, and my father would have said that was a weakness, but he would have been wrong. You are one of the strongest men I have ever known, not brash or forceful, but enduring and steadfast. You give so much and ask for so little in return, we did not understand how much we depend on you." She hastily brushed away a tear as she leaned closer.

"You are my friend, Timothy McGee, and I am not ready to let you go." Ziva closed her eyes and began to chant softly as she rocked back and forth.

Silently crying, Sarah moved to the foot of Tim's bed as she listened to the melodious words. It was not a language she recognized, but it was still moving and powerful. Eventually, Ziva repeated the last words as he voice faded out.

"That was beautiful, was it Hebrew?"

Ziva nodded as she continued to watch Tim's face for any sign of acknowledgment. "Yes, it was Refuah Sh'lemah, a prayer for health and healing." Determined, she stood and hugged Sarah. "Remember, we must remain strong for him. As long as he is still breathing, there is hope." She kissed Sarah on both cheeks before turning and walking out of the room, holding the door for Abby.

Once Abby was inside, Ziva immediately turned to Tony. "No matter what, you must convince Sarah to allow Gibbs in to sit with McGee. It may be his last hope."

---NCIS---

"Oh, Timmy." It had taken Tony's strong hands on her shoulders, guiding her to the door that Ziva held, to get Abby moving. Now that she was on the other side of the closed door, she was terrified. She looked back through the window to see Tony nod at her, Ziva at his side. Behind them, Gibbs was silent, leaning against the wall. He looked frail, a word she had never associated with Gibbs, but today it fit. At a loss, Abby repeated herself as she turned back. "Oh, Timmy."

It was Sarah's outreached hand that finally moved those platform boots and Abby silently shuffled over to sit in the chair next to Tim's bed. After one final hand squeeze, Sarah again moved back to allow one of her brother's friends the time to say their farewells.

"How many times did you scold me for not doing what you asked? The one time I did, and look what it did. I'm so sorry, Tim." Abby fell silent as she traced one finger down the less injured side of his face.

"What am I going to do without you, McGee? You're the only one that understands the science, that understands me. You're the only one that Tony can really tease, what's he going to do without you to be his straight man? And Ziva, what's she going to do? You're the buffer, you're the one that keeps her from showing Tony all eighteen ways she can kill with a paperclip."

Sniffling, Abby laid her cheek on the top of the bedrail as she brushed back his hair, carefully avoiding the stitches and bruises. "The worse is going to be the Bossman. I don't think he can bear to lose another child, cause you are, even if you don't think so. You two are so different, and he didn't know how to say it in a way that you could understand, but you're as important to him as the rest of us. He thought you knew, and now, if he doesn't get the chance to make it right it's going to tear him apart.

Falling silent, Abby stared at him for a few minutes before she sat up, a determined look on her face. "Positive thinking, that's what we need. You are not going to die, Timothy, no middle initial, McGee. There's too much left to do and too many people that need you and are counting on you." She watched and waited, but when his breathing slowed down even more, it was all Abby could do to muffle her sobs as she rushed out of the room.

---NCIS---

Tony quietly entered the room and partially closed the door behind him before moving to the bed. It had only been a few hours since he'd last seen McGee, but his friend was even paler than before under the oxygen mask. By now, Tim's chest was barely moving and even with the pure oxygen he was breathing, his lips were tinged with blue. Tony stood at the bed, his knuckles white from his grip on the railing.

"I'm sorry, man. I'm sorry for all the times I razzed you and all the times I told you that you didn't understand what it was like to have a dad that..." Tony shook his head as he dropped his chin onto his chest. "I wish you could have trusted me, that I had worked to earn that trust."

Tony bit down on his lip to keep it from trembling. "We can't lose you, man. You're the anchor that holds us all together, hold me together. Every time something bad happens, every time we lose somebody, you're right there, supporting me, taking my crap. At one time I would have said I couldn't do the job without Gibbs, but when it came down to it, I could because you had my back. And now... don't make me do this without you, Tim. Please, Probie, don't leave us."

The fear that they were running out of time was clawing at Tony's throat as he turned to Sarah. "You need to let Gibbs come in and be with Tim now, Sarah."

"I don't..."

He didn't give her time to argue. "You don't understand. All of us, we all know when we're hurt or sick, that Gibbs comes in and he orders us not to die, and we don't. We don't die, because we know that he's here and that he needs us. Tim needs that, he needs to hear that. He needs to hear Gibbs tell him not to die."

Sarah was sobbing, arms tightly wrapped around her waist as she tried to understand. "You heard what the doctors said, what happens when Tim dies anyways?"

Their voices were loud enough to be heard out in the hall and Gibbs stiffened as he listened to the conversation. Tony was no longer attempting to hold back the tears. "I won't lie to you, Sarah, it will be awful. But the only thing that would be worse..." His voice broke. "The only thing worse would be spending the rest of our lives wondering if it would have made a difference. I know you're angry at Gibbs, and I know you're hurting so unbelievably bad right now, but you need to forgive Gibbs, for Tim. He needs Gibbs right now. Live or die, he needs Gibbs."

"Damn it." Sarah stared at the ceiling as the tears rolled into her hairline. "Damn it." She finally looked at Tony. "He better not hurt my brother."

"He won't, Sarah. I give you my word, he won't hurt Tim."


	28. Chapter 28

**a/n - Here it is, the chapter you've been waiting for. I hope it lives up to the anticipation. Thank you for all your reviews, comments, and well wishes. You guys are amazing.**

Gibbs didn't acknowledge any of the watching eyes that followed him into the hospital room, his only awareness was of the still figure in the bed. His view from the hallway hadn't prepared him for how close to death Tim looked now.

Gibbs lowered the side rail and carefully sat on the edge of the bed. Without much thought, he noticed and corrected anything that might make his young agent uncomfortable, tugging the wrinkles out of the pillowcase, and straightening the twisted straps of the oxygen mask. "There you go, is that better? The nurses are so busy with the major stuff, they forget about the little things." Gibbs studied McGee's pale face. "Ah, Tim, how in the hell did we get to this point?"

There was no answer, not that he was expecting one. With only two clean fractures, Tim's right arm was in a simple brace and Gibbs wrapped his fingers around the cold hand, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles as he started to speak, letting his mind and words wander over the years Tim had been at his side. "Do you remember the first time we worked together in Norfolk? DiNozzo tricked you into watching the crime scene all night and I went out of my way to intimidate you, but you stuck it out and you didn't back down. Intrigued me enough to pull your jacket when we got back to DC. Saw those degrees, that research you'd done, all that potential that was just sitting there in that little office in Norfolk.

"That first night back in DC, I knew someone was going to have the chance to turn that incredibly green rookie into an agent that was going to go places. I hadn't trained a rookie in a lot of years, and none as green as you were back then, but I couldn't stop thinking about it, about you. Every time our paths crossed you just kept impressing. I never said anything because that's rule number one when you're training someone.

"I slipped up, though, when you identified Ari for me. I remember ruffling your hair like you were my kid and I was so damn proud of you. You knew it too, the grin on your face proved it. That was the night I told Director Morrow that eventually I was going to have you on my team."

---NCIS---

Ron Sacks and Greg Hall had joined Fornell in the waiting room by the time Tony walked Abby and Ziva out of ICU, Jimmy trailing behind them. Ron watched as three of them collapsed into various chairs, while DiNozzo came over to sit next to him. He waited while Tony stared at his hands before he slowly started to talk.

"A lot of things went wrong on a lot of different levels and I don't have the energy to be angry about it anymore."

"I can understand that." Surprisingly, Ron could understand as he stared at the raw pain he saw on the other man's face.

Tony shifted to face Ron, but Ron could tell that he was seeing something else beyond the two of them sitting in the waiting room. "All these years, all the pain he must have been in, and I never saw it. I called myself his friend, but deep down, I never knew him. That's going to be a hard thing to live with. As much as it hurts that it wasn't me that was at his side this last week, I'm grateful that someone was." Finally, Tony looked Ron in the eye. "And I'm glad it was you. Thanks, man."

Ron gave a short nod as he struggled to keep his own voice steady. "I just wish it had been enough. All the work I've done with Greg, I thought I'd gotten pretty good at recognizing this kind of problem, but I never suspected a thing until Greg introduced me to Sarah. Don't beat yourself up about missing the signs, he had a lifetime of training on how to cover them up."

"Doesn't make it any easier." Tony turned his attention back to the door he'd walked through a few minutes earlier.

Ron's eyes followed. "Yeah, man, I know."

---NCIS---

"You were at Headquarters when the air conditioning went out, do you remember that? The IT guys wouldn't finish the upgrade to the system because it was too hot in the building, but you knew how important it was, so you just climbed under the desks and started working. You saw what needed to be done, and you did it. You didn't complain about it being too hot, you didn't worry about making sure the right people saw you working, you just fixed the problem."

Gibbs gave a soft laugh and reached out and traced the edge of Tim's ear, remembering Kate's death grip in it when she dragged him out from under her desk. "Wasn't sure if your ears were going to survive when Kate thought you were under there to look up her skirt, but even that didn't scare you off. The Director and I had been round and round about adding you to the team, because it wasn't set up to be a four person team, but that day I looked up at him and he just nodded. From that moment on, you were mine, Tim, you were mine." Behind them, Sarah continued to watch and learn about her brother's difficult and complicated relationship with his boss.

---NCIS---

Leon and Jackie Vance arrived to a somber group milling around the waiting room. With Jackie behind him, Leon went straight to DiNozzo. "Is there any change?"

"His body is shutting down. The doctors think it will be over soon." Tony was looking at the knot of Vance's tie as he spoke to him.

Ziva joined them, telling the rest. "Sarah let each of us come in for a last visit, Gibbs is in there now."

"Yeah," Tony looked over his shoulder at the closed door to the ICU unit. "If anyone can convince Tim to stay with us, it'll be the Boss."

"Gibbs?"

Tony rubbed the back of his neck as he gave a snort in answer to Vance. "I know, our last hope is the functional mute, but McGee has always come through for Gibbs. I just gotta believe he'll manage one more time."

---NCIS---

Gibbs may be a man of few words, but he did know how to use them when it counted. He was aware that Sarah was leaning forward in her chair, listening, but Tim was his priority. Still holding onto Tim's right hand, he let his other hand trail up from the side of Tim's face as he brushed back a lock of hair. "You looked so impossibly young that first year, I couldn't use your first name. In my head it was Timmy, not Tim, and I knew you would hate that.

"I knew how embarrassed you'd be, so I never told you, but one of your dad's friends, a guy named Marty Campbell, called me that first month you were on the team. Thought it was odd at the time, but you called home on a pretty regular basis; I figured your dad was worried about how we were treating you. Wish he'd told me, given me some sort of hint that something was wrong. He was the first person I tried to track down a few days ago when we realized that something really was wrong, but he died of cancer last year. Was he someone who tried to help you, or was he just one more person that helped your father hide what he was doing?"

Even knowing there would be no answer, Gibbs paused, as if waiting for his agent to speak Finally he shook his head. "You know how I feel about apologies, but like I told Ducky once, sometimes they are necessary. I was distracted and frustrated and the one time you needed my help, I let you down." Gibbs bent down, his face only inches from Tim's. "There is no excuse for my failure, but I am so, so sorry, Tim. I never meant to hurt you and I would never knowingly sacrifice one of my boys for the other."

Tim's next breath was short and uneven as the machines began to beep ominously. "No, Tim, it's not your time yet, son." Gibbs gently tapped as close to the back of Tim's head before moving his hand down to rest on his chest. "Stay with us, Tim. We need you, your sister needs you... I need you." He realized that it had been too long waiting for the next breath and he rubbed hard on Tim's chest, his voice raising as Sarah joined him at Tim's bedside. "Breathe for me, Tim... Tim... McGee, breathe!"

The breath, when it came, was shallow and shaky and the sweetest thing Gibbs had ever heard. "Thank God, oh thank God. Now, another one, Tim, take another breath." The second breath was deeper and stronger and Gibbs pressed on, knowing that somehow, some part of Tim was still within his reach.

"You are, you know, you're one of my boys. Just as much as DiNozzo. I didn't want to interfere with your relationship with your family, so I always kept a step back, but you're mine, too. Breathe, Tim. Deep down, you've always been mine.

"I know that people say that Tony is following in my footsteps, and they're right. He and I are a lot alike and someday he's going to make a fine team leader, but you... Take a breath, Tim. You are my legacy. You are the one that takes what I teach you and uses it as a stepping stone. You're headed for that big office upstairs. That will be the proudest day of my life, Tim, when I get to stand there and watch as you're sworn in. Breathe, Tim.

"I'll let you in on a secret, Tim. Do you remember our trip out to LA? The afternoon that you spent with Eric and all their cool toys, I went shopping. Yeah, me shopping. Take a breath, good boy, that's a nice deep one. Where was I? That's right, I went shopping for a piece of Jobillo wood. You ever heard of it? It reminds me of you. Now I've got a couple of slabs of it drying in my basement, waiting to become a desk set when you move upstairs."

He tapped Tim's chest lightly. "Time for another deep breath... there, that's a good one. I bet you want to know why that wood reminds me of you. When you wake up, I'll tell you all about it."

---NCIS---

Out in the hallway, Ducky and McGee's neurologist watched in amazement as Tim took a breath every time Gibbs prompted him. Ducky was thrilled, Dr. Lo saw another problem. It had been more than three hours since Gibbs had started talking and his voice was getting rougher. "This is all well and good, but how long can he keep it up?"

To Ducky that was an easy answer. "For as long as it takes, Dr. Lo. Jethro Gibbs will do whatever it takes for his people, with his own last breath, he will tell Timothy to breathe."

---NCIS---

Sarah hovered, listening as Gibbs talked to her brother, telling him to breathe, reminding him of how important he was to Gibbs, to the team. She heard details of past cases, heard of her brother's contributions to each of the cases. She realized that even if Gibbs was not one to often compliment his agents, he was acutely aware of all they did. A whispered word to a nurse brought a steaming cup of coffee and Sarah quietly handed it to Gibbs. He took a quick sip and handed the paper cup back in time to rub Tim's chest and remind him to breathe.

It took a few cycles, but they fell into a routine, Sarah tucked against Gibbs, the cup passing back and forth between them. The cases discussed became more recent, both she and Gibbs laughing at Tim's encounter with a smuggled Koala Bear before she listened in awe as Gibbs told of his pride in Somalia. Eventually as night fell, Gibbs' voice broke, but in grief, not exhaustion.

"I don't understand it, Tim. How could a man with everything, waste his life on booze? He had two wonderful, amazing kids, he should have been drunk on pride, not vodka. Breathe for me, Tim. Your father had it all, I would have killed to be in his shoes, but he tossed it all away, tossed the two of you away. So many times I stepped back for him and he didn't deserve it."

Letting the tears come, Sarah buried her face in Gibbs' shoulder as she mourned, not only for the father she had lost but for the father she wished William had been. Understanding, Gibbs kissed the top of her head and rocked her gently as he continued to remind Tim to breathe. If he had not been hyper-aware, he might have missed the slight flexing of the fingers under his hand. "Tim?" He leaned closer, Sarah watching them both carefully. "Tim, you've been sleeping long enough, it's time to wake up now."

Sarah saw his eyes moving slightly under the still swollen lids. "Tim? Timmy, can you hear me?"

"That's it, kiddo, you can do it. Come on, Tim, your sister needs to see you... we all need to see you."

The swelling was too great on one side, but slowly the other eye blinked open. "B'ss... S'rah?

"Oh, Tim." Sarah had just a moment with her brother before the room filled with medical personnel, forcing them back from the bed. She wasn't sure if Gibbs was holding her up or if she was holding him up, but she didn't care as she watched Tim become more and more aware of his surroundings.

---NCIS---

Tony had decided that sitting in a waiting room, waiting for your best friend to die was harder and more exhausting than any case he'd ever been on, but despite the weariness he was the first one to register when Ducky came through the door, a stunned expression on his face. "Is it over? Is he gone?" Try as he might, he couldn't keep the tremor out of his voice.

It took Ducky a moment to form the words, giving them all time to awaken and turn to him. "No, he's not gone, he's... he's awake."

Amidst the tearful laughing and cheering, Tony turned to Vance. "I knew it. Tim always comes through for the Boss. I knew it."


	29. Chapter 29

**a/n - Thank you for all your wonderful reviews, now it's time for Tony to check on his Probie and Papabear Gibbs is in the house ;)**

It was not quite 0500 when Tony slipped into McGee's hospital room. Gibbs was awake and gratefully took the offered coffee, while Sarah peacefully slept leaning against him. "I knew you'd bring him back, Boss."

Gibbs took a sip of the coffee as he watched Tim breathe. "Nah, he did that on his own, I just helped him find his way."

Tony had heard the details from Ducky, along with the rest of the group, but he decided not to push it. Instead he nodded as he studied his friend. The oxygen mask was still in place, but the blue tinge was gone and his sleep appeared to be peaceful. "He looks better, but how was he when he woke up? Did he..."

The unanswered questions about permanent damage still hung over the room, but Gibbs was optimistic. "He moved the fingers of his right hand and he recognized us. That's a good start for someone that just woke up."

"Yeah, but the doctor said McGee didn't respond to him at all." Tony's fingers itched to wake the young man and see for himself.

Gibbs smiled down at the sleeping girl still tucked up against him. "I wouldn't worry too much about what Dr. Lo said. All Tim was interested in last night was seeing his sister."

"Yeah, okay, that makes sense." The familiar voice and the bumping of the bed woke the subject of their discussion, but Tony didn't look at all guilty. "Probie, you're awake."

"T'ny?"

"Hey, Buddy." Tony bent down so Tim could see him easier. "How ya' doing? Gave us quite a scare, you know."

"S'ry."

"Just get better and we'll call it even, okay?" The slight nod he got in response made his grin widen even more, but Tim was already back asleep.

The exchange woke Sarah, but she didn't move except to open her eyes. DiNozzo's casual and not quite accidental waking of her brother made her smile, especially his obvious joy when Tim spoke to him. Gibbs rough voice reminded her of the hours he'd spent slowly and carefully talking her brother back from the edge of death. The doctors may consider Tim's survival a medical miracle, but Sarah was convinced that it had less to do with anything medical and much more to do with the connection she now saw between his team.

A smiling nurse came in with news that shattered the security Sarah was feeling. "Miss McGee? Your uncle is in the waiting room. He wants to see you and your brother."

She straightened, but didn't pull away from Gibbs and he could see the returning terror on her face. "Sarah, did he ever try to protect you and Tim from your father?"

"Uncle Mike still thinks Daddy's drinking wasn't all that bad. He gets really mad at Tim every time Dad goes into rehab." Her voice caught for a moment before she forced a calm she did not feel. "He doesn't understand why Tim embarrasses Daddy by forcing the issue."

Sarah shrugged and looked down at the floor. "He's probably here to find out why I haven't been arrested yet."

Gibbs reached out and tipped her chin back up so he could look her in the eye, hating to see the return of the guilty expression. "You did nothing wrong, Sarah. Now, I want you to stay here with your brother. I'll go deal with Uncle Mike."

"Boss?"

He knew what Tony was silently asking. "Stay here with them, DiNozzo."

"But..."

"If he tries to do an end run around me, I want to know that Tim and Sarah are protected."

By now the nurse was nervous about what was happening. "Should I call security?"

Tony recognized the look on Gibbs' face. He may have missed the chance to 'discuss' with William McGee, but Gibbs was looking forward to teaching his brother a few facts of life. "Not security, but possibly housekeeping. Tell them to bring a mop." He circled the bed to wrap Sarah in a hug as Gibbs kissed the top of her head and left the room.

-NCIS-

Ziva was alone in the waiting room when a familiar looking man came through the door. It wasn't until she heard him speak to one of the nurses that she realized it was the family resemblance she was picking up on. Michael McGee was a younger, shorter and heavier version of his older brother. Expecting trouble, she casually moved across the room, using the excuse of picking up a magazine from the far table. Magazine in hand, she sat in the seat closest to the door into the ICU unit.

Unsurprisingly, it was Gibbs and not Sarah that came through the door, much to the disappointment of Michael, who crossed his arms and glared at Gibbs. "I told the nurse I wanted to see them."

"You don't give the impression of an uncle worried about a critically injured nephew or an emotionally fragile niece." Gibbs crossed his own arms and returned the glare.

"I want to know how my brother ended up dead, and why wasn't I notified."

"You're here now. Obviously somebody told you."

"Yeah, I called the house and some cop told me that Will was in DC and was going to be arrested. I showed up at Tim's place to get answers and his landlord tells me that my brother is dead and that Sarah killed him." Michael took a step closer. "I want to know what in the hell is going on. Where is Julia and what happened to Will?"

"Your brother fell of the wagon is what happened." Gibbs ignored Michael's protest and pressed on. "Either during a drunken rage or during a hallucination, William McGee strangled his wife and then wrapped her body in a tarp and stuffed it in the crawlspace under the house."

"No, he loved Julia."

"After he disposed of the body and hid her car, he made sure people knew that she had kicked him out of the house. Then he got on a bus for DC." Gibbs watched for the reaction.

"That can't be right. There has to be another explanation, somebody killed Julia after he left."

Again, Gibbs continued on as if he hadn't heard the objection. "Where he repeatedly became more and more violent while drunk. He attacked Tim and tried to strangle him Monday night in front of witnesses and had no recollection the following morning. Wednesday he tried to bash Sarah's head in with an iron. Tim pushed her out of the way and took the beating himself. The only way she could save her brother was to shoot her father."

Michael backed up until his legs hit a chair and he fell into it. "That can't be right, his drinking wasn't that bad."

Knowing it would be the only way to get through to him, Gibbs turned to Ziva. "David, do you have the evidence photos?"

"Yes, Gibbs." Ziva pulled out her phone and accessed the images stored in it. The small size was less shocking than seeing them on the plasma, but they were still shocking enough. She started with the pictures of Sarah's bruised face and arm and then pulled up the photos taken of Tim as they waited for the ambulance, when they were convinced they had arrived too late. Next came the images of the blood splatter on the walls, flung from the heavy appliance before she closed the file. She had the photos of William McGee's body, but this was about that damage William had caused.

Now that he had Michael's attention, Gibbs answered his earlier question and asked one of his own. "Oh, yeah, it was that bad. The question is, why didn't anyone step in when it first started?"

"But, he..." Michael's voice as barely a whisper. "He never really looked drunk, he had a career. I thought Tim was whining, that Will was just being tough on him. You know, trying to make a man out of him."

"Make a man out of him?" As Gibbs' words became ice, Ziva braced herself, expecting the confrontation to turn ugly. "Tim has apparently spent his life cleaning up after his father, taking care of his father and protecting his sister from his father. He's more of a man than William ever thought of being."

"Wait a minute..."

"You're done. Tim has only been out of the coma for a few hours. Sarah has not left the hospital since she arrived. They're exhausted and fragile and don't need you or your accusations. Go home, just... go home." With one last look of pity, Gibbs turned and went through the door, closing it behind him. He waited, fists clenched in anticipation, to see if the other man would try to force his way in.

-NCIS-

Tony hugged Sarah tighter and kissed the top of her head, as Gibbs had done earlier. "Thank you, Sarah." She pulled back just enough to look at him.

"For what?"

"For saving Tim... and Gibbs."

She looked baffled by his words. "Tim and I always take care of each other, always have, always will, but how did I save Agent Gibbs?"

He pulled her back close for another hug, but she caught a quick glance of how bright his eyes were. "By saving Tim."

-NCIS-

Michael stared at the door knob for almost a minute before he reached out to grasp it. He saw the feminine hand shoot out, but before he could comprehend the significance, the wrist lock had him on his knees.

"I believe Agent Gibbs told you to go home."

"Is there a problem, Agent David?"

She looked up to see Vance and Fornell leading the rest of the team back from their early morning invasion of the hospital cafeteria. "Good morning, Director. No problem, I was just explaining to Mr. McGee here, how he needs to come to terms with his brother's death before he tries to have contact with his niece."

Through the door glass, Vance could see Gibbs, ready to take a swing. "Would I be correct in assuming that he's already spoken to Gibbs on the matter?"

"Yes, but apparently Mr. McGee needed a second opinion." She tightened her grip on his arm, but was not surprised when Vance took his other arm and pulled him up and away from her.

"I'm sure I can answer whatever questions Mr. McGee might have. Agent Fornell, would you like to join me?"

Fornell gave a toothy grin as he bounced on his toes. "It will be my pleasure, Director Vance."

After the three men left, Abby turned to Ziva. "I kinda want to go watch Leon kick his ass, but I want to see Timmy even more."

Surprisingly, it was Jimmy that came up with a possible solution. "Director Vance will probably talk to him in one of the conference rooms. Isn't there video in those now?"

Abby would have hugged him, except she was balancing breakfast for Gibbs and Sarah. "Jimmy, I like the way you think."


	30. Chapter 30

**a/n - Coming close to the end of this one, thank you for all your amazing reviews. Now, it's time for Tim and Gibbs to talk. You might want a tissue handy.**

Sarah didn't want to eat in front of her brother and his wired jaw, even if he were asleep, so she and Gibbs retreated to the waiting room for the food Abby had brought them, leaving Tony alone with Tim. His protests that he hadn't deliberately woken Tim fell on amused but deaf ears, so he promised that this time he wouldn't waken him. That didn't mean he wouldn't notice when his Probie woke on his own, or moved, or took a deep breath, or...

Tony was still compiling the list when he realized that one green eye was watching him. "Hey, how ya' doing, McGee?" He pulled one of the chairs closer and sat down so he could look through the rails, his face only inches from Tim's.

"Tired... f'zzy."

Tony listened closely, pleased that his speech was much clearer, now just muffled by his wired jaw rather than slurred by his head injury. "They got you on the good stuff. Sleep is the best thing right now."

"Keep Sarah safe?"

"Yeah, buddy, we'll keep Sarah safe. You just rest, we've got it covered." Threaded through the rails, Tony's one hand hovered protectively over Tim's head as he gently squeezed his fingers with his other hand. Waiting, he smiled at the younger man.

Tim seemed to study him intently before his eye slowly drooped and closed again. Just in time, too, as Tony's facade cracked. "I'm so sorry, man. If somebody had told me a week ago that Gibbs blew you off because he was worried about me, it would have made my day. I... I know I'm a selfish jackass at times, but I never wanted to hurt you. Neither would Gibbs, not deliberately, and I know this is just killing him. We're going to make it up to you, I'm going to make it up to you."

He thought he was safely talking to a sleeping friend, until he felt the fingers tighten around his.

-NCIS-

"Have a seat, Mr. McGee." Vance pulled a chair part way out from the large conference table. When Michael hesitated, Vance became more forceful. "That wasn't a request, Mr. McGee."

Silently, the man sat, unsure of what he had gotten himself into. Ducky came into the room, arms loaded with files and folders, and slammed the door behind him, a strikingly unusual act for him. Vance knew how much it would take to anger Ducky and turned the floor over to him. "Dr. Mallard, why don't you give your findings first."

Ducky tossed the first file down in front of Michael McGee. "Timothy was only six years old this time you covered up for his father. Tell me, was it the first time?" As he spoke, Ducky opened the file and thumped his hand down on the emergency room treatment report. "Eight stitches in the scalp. The attending physician suspected he'd been clipped by a broken bottle."

"The kid was a klutz. Will said Tim ran into the bottle he was holding." The defiance was still there, but the bravado was fading.

Fornell jumped in before Vance or Ducky could say anything. "Who are you trying to kid? You want us to believe Tim was running so fast he broke the bottle while he father was holding it? There's not a six year old in the world that could run that fast."

"You had to suspect something." Reading upside down was a useful skill and Vance had been using it to skim over the report. "Instead of taking him to the base hospital, you drove him to an inner city charity hospital. That sounds suspiciously like you were covering for your brother."

"Good thing the statute of limitations has expired on that one. Otherwise you'd be up a creek, Mikey-boy." Fornell leaned into Michael's face, forcing him to lean back. "Kinda makes me wonder what else you've been up to, maybe something a little more current?"

Still grinning, Fornell pulled his phone out and hit the speed dial, calling his senior agent. "Sacks, I want you to put together a complete dossier on Michael McGee... that's right, Tim and Sarah's uncle... yes, the one that ignored every opportunity to help them and protect them from William." He stopped, apparently listening as Sacks checked into the basics. While he was waiting, he reached out and flicked an imaginary piece of lint off Micheal's jacket, smirking as the other man jumped. Something Sacks said to him caught his attention. "Really, how interesting. I'll pass that along, keep digging. Use all of our FBI resources to assist NCIS with this."

The predatory tone in Fornell's voice caught the attention of the other men in the room. Michael slumped down in fear, while Vance straightened. "Well?"

Fornell tucked his phone in his coat pocket, using the delay to build the anticipation. "It appears that Mikey here has built up a rather successful business selling office supplies to the government, specifically the Navy."

"You're right, that is interesting." Vance gave a knowing look to Fornell and Ducky. "I'm sure the SecNav will also find it interesting." Letting the vague threat hang in the air, Vance next returned his attention to Ducky. "Before we turn all these files over to a team for a full investigation, are there any other highlights we should know about now?"

The files were spread like a fan across the table, and Ducky pulled one out of the middle. "Witness statements after Timothy's teenaged car accident suggest that although the young man was behind the wheel, he was not the one in control of the car at the time of the crash. William was fighting him for the steering wheel, and then there is this." He spread out the photographs that documented the injuries Tim had suffered on his sixteenth birthday, but there was one he laid his finger on. Vance pulled it closer and studied it. The black and white image showed an odd shaped bruise on the top of Tim's right foot.

"That's a shoe print. William was stepping down on Tim's foot hard enough to leave a bruise. Why?"

"As I was saying, witnesses saw Tim and his father struggling over the steering wheel and the car suddenly accelerated right before the impact."

Vance was going through the rest of the pages in the file. "There's no statement from Tim in here."

Ducky answered Vance, but stared at Michael McGee. "That is because Timothy's loving uncle refused to allow him to be interviewed, giving Vice Admiral Cooper time to stonewall the investigation."

Vance stood over the seated man, arms crossed. "Really?"

-NCIS-

The moment she was done eating, Sarah hurried back into her brother's room, while Gibbs went in search of coffee and a chance to stretch his legs. When he returned, Tony had rejoined the team and they were all huddled around Ziva's phone, watching a video. Silently, Gibbs leaned over Palmer's shoulder and caught a glimpse of Vance and Ducky on the screen. They had moved past what William had done to Tim over the years and were reviewing the autopsy findings. The feed was being streamed in black and white, but Michael's obvious green tint still showed through.

"Enjoying the show?"

Palmer jumped while Abby and Ziva just grinned. DiNozzo was the spokesman of the group. "Beats anything on HBO, that's for sure."

-NCIS-

It was well after dinner before Jackie and Vance took Sarah home with them and Gibbs chased the rest of the team out for the night. Tony had seen the expression on the older man's face and helped to herd Abby out the door. It was the first time since he'd found his agent researching options regarding his father that Gibbs had been alone with McGee, and he settled in to wait.

Over the course of the day, the swelling had started to recede, helping him to look better, and the staff had changed the oxygen mask for a cannula. Gibbs couldn't help but think back and wonder how different it would have been if he'd reached out that Friday night, or even better, that day in the elevator. He watched as one green eye opened fully and the other just a crack. "Hey, McGee, how are you feeling?" He forced a smile on his face as he waited for an answer.

"Where's Sarah?"

Of course he would be worried about his sister. "It's late, Leon and Jackie took her home with them to get some rest."

"Good, that's... good." McGee stared at him for a long moment, gathering his strength. "Guess you know."

"About your dad? I am sorry, Tim, I should have known sooner."

"Not... your fault."

Gibbs thought about his words carefully, knowing how important they would be. "Tony and Ziva wear their family problems on their sleeves, almost like a badge of honor. I couldn't help but know about them. That's no excuse for not taking the time to learn more about you, and I am sorry for that. I took the basic reports at face value and, somehow, I never gave you the support to know you could come to me."

"Didn't want you to know, ashamed."

"Ah, Tim," Gibbs reached out and gently wiped away the tear he saw forming. "You had nothing to be ashamed of."

"Been a better son... maybe..."

"No!" Gibbs let his hand slide around to lightly tap the back of Tim's head, bringing a slight smile to the younger man. "He had the finest son a man could ask for. The failure was his, not yours. Never yours."

"What's going to happen to him?" Gibbs froze at the question. They had not made plans as to when to tell Tim about either of his parents. Tim continued, not seeing the look on Gibbs' face. "Needs rehab, don't want him... jail."

"Tim... you need to concentrate on getting better for now."

"Need to know. Please, Boss, what's going to happen to him?" Finally, Gibbs' expression registered with Tim. "No, he's not dead. Please tell me he's not dead."

The suddenly ragged breathing alarmed Gibbs and he cupped the back of Tim's head as he leaned forward to rest his head carefully against Tim's forehead. "Easy, Tim, easy. It's going to be all right."

"Was... was it Tony? Is that... is that why... he feels so... so..."

"Shhh, shhh, easy son. Nice deep breaths. That's it." Gibbs watched him closely as he regained control even as more tears formed.

"What happened? What did I do wrong?"

Gibbs blinked back his own tears. "You didn't do anything wrong. Sometimes people are just too far gone to be saved. Your dad was at that point. The only choice left was to stop him from killing you, and that was the right thing to do." He felt Tim stiffen and braced himself for the question.

"Who?"

He thought about lying, thought about pretending to misunderstand, but he knew how important honesty was to McGee. "Sarah shot him, she had no choice."

"No, no, no. She shouldn't have had to do that."

Gibbs shifted, tucking Tim against him so he couldn't shake his head. "It wasn't your fault, William gave her no choice. He snapped and would have killed you both. She had no choice."

"Is she going to be all right?" Tim sounded so heartbreakingly young.

"Your sister is a strong little lady. As long as you're okay, she'll be okay. Vance has arranged for her to see the same therapist that Jackie went to after she shot Kai. We're going to take care of both of you, whatever it takes, I promise you." Tim quieted and Gibbs thought he was drifting off to sleep.

"I thought I could save him."

Gibbs chose his words carefully. "I know, but deep down I don't think he wanted to be saved."

"Our mom's dead, isn't she?"

"I'm sorry."

"Why... why weren't we enough for him?"

"Ah, Timmy, I wish I knew. Any father should have been so darn proud to have you as a son. Between you and your sister, he was the luckiest man in the world and he was too busy drinking to see what he had." Gibbs' voice finally broke. "He had it all but he just didn't care and I was too busy being jealous of him to let myself see that you were in trouble. I am so sorry, Tim, so very, very sorry."


	31. Chapter 31

**a/n - Hope you all had a good weekend, here in the States it was a three day weekend. Almost to the end of this story. Next chapter is also done and will go up tomorrow. Epilogue will follow. I'll start posting _Puppet Master_, written for the Haiti relief efforts, by the weekend. It is a story not for the faint of heart, so be warned. Thank you for the wonderful reviews, you've been amazing.**

Gibbs was waiting for Sarah when she and Jackie arrived the next morning. "He asked about your parents last night."

She didn't have to ask if he'd told Tim. They both knew her brother well enough to know that he wouldn't have accepted any attempt to sidetrack him. "How did he take it?"

Gibbs shrugged. "He's worried about you."

"What did you tell him?

Another shrug, this time accompanied with a half grin. "You're worried about him."

As Jackie watched the exchange, Sarah smiled and handed Gibbs a cup of coffee before slipping through the doorway and down the hall to her brother's room. Once Sarah was out of sight, Jackie took out a bag and handed it to Gibbs. "Your team and Sarah may be convinced that you are capable of living off of coffee, but I know better, Jethro Gibbs, so eat."

He sat in one of the chairs and opened the bag, forcing a smile at the container of non-fat yogurt and granola bar he found inside. Behind him the door opened back up and Sarah popped back out just long enough to toss a wax coated bag at him. Gibbs turned and caught it in one hand as she grinned before dashing down the hallway. Returning the smile, he tore open the bag to find a sticky pecan roll, still warm. Jackie just rolled her eyes.

-NCIS-

Sarah paused outside the hospital room door to plaster on her widest smile before stepping inside. It lasted until Tim held up his trembling right arm. As the tears came she found herself tucked under her brother's arm, just like when she was a little girl.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Sarah. You must have been so scared." Tim gently kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to protect you."

"But you did." Sarah listened to the heartbeat as her head rested lightly on Tim's chest. "You saved me. Daddy went wild and you pushed me out of the way. He would have killed me and he almost killed you." She turned her head to look at him. "If I had to relive it, I would do the same thing. Ziva talked to me a lot about her brother and what she had to do and Mrs. Vance told me about that woman, Kai, and how she had to shoot her to protect her husband. It's the same way, I had to save you, save us. He gave me no choice. In my head, I understand that."

"And the rest of you?" He felt her shrug under his arm.

"It'll catch up as long as I still have you."

Tim was so proud of his baby sister. "You're right, Sarah, As much as it hurts, there was no choice. I just wish it hadn't have had to be you. That's not a memory I wanted you to have." He wanted to hug his sister, hold her until the pain went away, but all the movement he could manage was to kiss her forehead as her breathing deepened, her body stilling as she relaxed and exhaustion won out.

-NCIS-

Gibbs stood in line for over an hour, but now he had a stack of permits in his hand and a plan in his head. The doctors told him that McGee would be hospitalized for two more weeks as they monitored his head injury and then he would be transferred to a rehabilitation center where he would undergo months of therapy before he could even think of returning to his tiny apartment with the steep stairs and the long walk to the parking lot.

He had thought long and hard about why his open door policy hadn't been enough for McGee and now he had a theory, but only two weeks for implementation. It was time to call in the troops.

-NCIS-

The oddest part of only being able to stay awake for a few hours at a time was the fact that every time he opened his eyes, there was somebody new sitting next to his bed. Tim could have sworn that he'd only just closed his eyes for a second, but Sarah had morphed into Fornell.

"Agent Fornell." Instinctively, Tim struggled to sit up but a hand on his chest stopped him.

"Lay still, McGee." Tim's reaction told him he was right in regards to where the young man needed to be. "Tell me, do you try to get up every time Gibbs walks in here?"

Tim flashed back onto the hours he'd spent mourning his parents, the comforting arms of his boss anchoring and supporting him in his grief, the low voice in his ear, slowly convincing him that nothing he could have done would have stopped his father's path of self-destruction.

Although still bruised and battered, it was easy to read McGee's face, even if Fornell hadn't made a late night visit to the hospital. The nurses guarding the two men hadn't let him in the room, but from the window he'd seen enough to know he needn't feel guilty about letting the transfer slide.

It was obvious that Tim understood the unasked question as much as the verbal one. "No, I don't. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Tim. Family's not always about blood, sometimes it's about second chances."

"Thanks, Tobias, for everything."

-NCIS-

"You got it?" Ron held up the slip of paper in answer to Tony's question as he met up with DiNozzo outside a pawn shop with a history of accepting stolen property. Sarah had given him the code to McGee's safe while DiNozzo had taken up a collection at work. Anxious to help their fellow agent, he'd been given enough money for not only this errand, but to break the lease on McGee's apartment so he and Sarah would not have to face the location of such tragedy again.

Ron shook his head as they headed for the store. "We should be going through channels and helping Metro shut this place down."

"Yeah, and then McGee's Rolex ends up in one of their evidence lock-ups." He'd had the same discussion with Ziva earlier in the day. "He's lost so much, this is the one thing we can get back for him."

"You're corrupting me, you know." Sacks returned Tony's grin. "Thank you."

The owner of Southside Pawn and Loan didn't make any profit off the Rolex he had in the showcase, but by the time the two agents left, he was quite happy to not be in custody.

-NCIS-

It was easy to lose track of time in the hospital where the lights never truly went out and silence never completely fell, but Tim quickly learned that Gibbs' arrival meant evening had arrived. Somehow, that comforting hand on his shoulder and the conversation that followed always helped ease him into a restful sleep more than anything the nurses could add to his IV. Tonight, Gibbs brought him his phone, which had survived in better shape than he had.

"So, tell me about apps."

Tim felt the corner of his mouth twitch as he watched Gibbs gingerly poke at the touchscreen. The man was such a technophobe, but he was making a real effort to better understand him. "Do you want to know about the commercially available apps, or the ones I wrote to help on the job?"

"You're writing apps for the job? Vance hasn't said anything about it."

"He doesn't know yet."

Tim was looking at the pins in his arm and Gibbs bent down to catch his eye. "Why not?"

"Knew he'd make a big deal out of it and I wanted to field test it first, in case..."

As much as it pained him, Gibbs could easily fill in the blanks. In case he got irritated while McGee worked out the bugs that were inevitable with new technology. In case Tony teased him. In case the program did everything but the one thing the team needed at the time. "Understandable, but show me now."

Gibbs had more than one reason for the request and as Tim explained about the programs he'd written , his voice became stronger and clearer as he became more comfortable with speaking through his wired teeth. As the younger man continued to talk, even Gibbs could see the potential of what he was developing.

It didn't take long for McGee to tire, and as Gibbs pulled the blankets up around his shoulders, he broke the bad news to the younger man. "Vance is going to be pretty impressed with what you've got here. You do realize what that means?"

Tim heard the seriousness of the question, but didn't notice the smirk. "Umm, no."

"You're going to have to train me to use one of those smart phone with the touchscreen." It was the first time since he'd awaken from the coma that both of Timothy McGee's eyes were wide open, much to Gibbs' amusement.


	32. Chapter 32

**a/n - It's been quiet since the holiday weekend. This should get you stirred up. Last main chapter of the story, to be followed by an epilogue. Thank you all, it's been a wild ride.**

**Umm, you might want to grab a tissue.**

With only three flavors of the liquid meals available at Bethesda, it didn't take long for McGee to get sick of his options. The nurses brought him strawberry every morning, while vanilla and chocolate were rotated for lunch and dinner. It was now 0700, which meant that strawberry would be arriving in a few minutes. For a few traitorous moments Tim considered a hunger strike, but he'd already lost a dangerous amount of weight and the doctor was threatening to delay his release and put in a feeding tube.

The only thing McGee wanted more than a new flavor was to go home, and being transferred to the rehabilitation center was the first step. Despite that, he didn't open his eyes when he heard the door open.

"Breakfast is served."

Even though she visited almost every day, Tim's eyes flew open at the familiar voice. Abby was standing at the foot of his bed, holding what appeared to be a homemade smoothie in her hand. She came in the rest of the way and helped him raise the bed into a partially inclined position. Tim closed his eyes as the expected dizziness hit him. By the time it cleared, Abby was sitting next to the bed waiting for the episode to end.

She smiled at him. "They're getting shorter, McGee."

"If you say so."

"I do say so. See?" Abby held up a stop watch. "Your dizzy spell was almost two whole seconds shorter than there were last week."

"Two whole seconds?"

Abby set the cup and the stopwatch on the bedside table and wrapped her hands around his upper right arm. "It's a start. I know you're frustrated, but you were so badly hurt, it's a miracle you survived. Just give yourself time."

"Time." He didn't know how to explain it to her, but time was one luxury he felt he no longer had. Would he have a place in the agency after his leave and vacation time were used up, let alone a place on the team? Would his publisher still want his book if he couldn't go on any book signings during those first few critical months? As grateful as he was to not have to keep renting the apartment that had become a house of horrors for he and his sister, when the move was complete he would, for all intents and purposes, be homeless. How could he find a new place when he couldn't even sit upright without help? How much longer could his friends in the country keep Jethro? They were kind people, but everyone had their limit.

Abby watched the myriad of emotions that crossed his face. She had always been good at Tim-speak, but now she considered herself an expert. Some of his worries she could eliminate. "Vance promised Gibbs that your place on the team is secure. They'll have TAD's when they need them, and help from cybercrimes, but no one is going to try and take your spot on the team. Not only that, but you have so much paid leave time now that you won't miss a single paycheck while you're recovering."

"What? How?"

She knew that would get his attention. "Didn't Jimmy tell you? He went to every single person in the building and got them to donate at least one day of their own leave time."

"All of them?" Stunned didn't even begin to cover the expression on his face and Abby wished she had a camera.

"Yep, from Director Vance right on down to the night janitors. Anybody that hesitated, he told them that Ziva would be collecting on the next round. That seemed to convince the holdouts real quick."

As much as it pained him to laugh, Tim couldn't help it at the image of Jimmy Palmer threatening people with the wrath of Ziva.

Pleased with his improved mood, Abby picked up the cup and transferred the contents to the overgrown syringe he used to eat. "Now, drink your smoothie that Ziva made for you. I bet it tastes tons better than those canned drinks they've been giving you."

-NCIS-

Ron stood, groaning as he stretched his back. "Wow, the old man sure did a number on this place. Is that the last box?"

"Yeah, this is it." Jimmy didn't look up from the box he was taping shut.

Behind him, DiNozzo carried a desk chair out the door. "Good, that means we're going to be done before the cleaning crew gets here."

When Palmer followed Tony out the door with the box of books, Ron took a moment to do a quick walk through of the apartment. DiNozzo was right, they would be done soon. All that was left in the bedroom was the television and the box springs. The now empty bookcase was the only piece of furniture left in the main living area. They would disassemble the bookcase so it would fit in the rented box van, while the television would be carefully placed in the back of the pick-up truck DiNozzo had borrowed from Gibbs. Professional cleaners would finish the job of erasing every trace of tragedy from the apartment so Tim and Sarah could move on with their lives.

-NCIS-

It seemed strange to see a light showing under the door to Kelly's old bedroom when Gibbs knocked on the door, even stranger to see the young woman sitting cross-legged on the twin bed with the flowered comforter. "You getting settled in all right?" As he asked, he reached out brushed his fingers across the books of fairy tales now sitting next to the college textbooks.

"I am, thank you." Sarah couldn't help but notice his wistful expression as he looked around the room. "Are you sure it's all right for me to stay in here? I don't mind sleeping on the sofa. I'm a grad student, I can sleep just about anywhere."

From the cover of the _Princess and the Pea_, Gibbs picked up a purple hair tie, a few strands of strawberry blonde hair still caught in the elastic. "I'm sure you and Kelly would have been good friends if she were still with me. She'd insist on sharing her room with you. Now it's late and we have a long day tomorrow." He motioned for her to get under the covers, automatically pulling them up over her shoulders as she stretched out on the bed.

When Sarah blinked back tears Gibbs sat on the edge of the bed, stroking her hair back from her face. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"It's silly." She scrubbed at the tears in a move that reminded him of Kelly.

"Not if it upsets you."

She stared at his knee instead of looking up at him. "Even when I was little, my dad never tucked me in."

Gibbs felt his own eyes sting as he bent to kiss her hair. "Then he was not only a drunk, he was a fool." He waited, stroking her hair until she drifted off, before turning on the nightlight that was shaped like Sleeping Beauty's castle. It was the first time in almost twenty years the light had been turned on, but it still filled the room with a comforting soft glow.

With one last look at the sleeping girl, Gibbs quietly closed the door behind him and headed down to the basement. His movements were automatic and didn't register with him until he found himself with an empty screw jar in one hand and a bottle of bourbon in the other. He carefully replaced the small screws in the jar before retreating upstairs to pour the bourbon down the sink.

-NCIS-

Gibbs stood and brushed off his pant legs. It had been a great deal of work, but they were going to be done on time. The last inspector had been there early the day before and only the finish work was left. The next shift of helpers would be arriving with the lunch delivery, and they had their work cut out for them. An hour later he was shaking his head in amusement at his three 'daughters' who had all managed to get paint in their hair. He carefully and conveniently stuck to the woodworking.

-NCIS-

As their SUV bounced along the dirt road, Vance glanced over at Jackie, refusing to acknowledge her amusement. He wasn't quite sure how he'd been roped into driving out to pick up McGee's dog, but the kids were thrilled. It was a Saturday morning so it had turned into a family adventure. "How much further?"

Jackie looked at the hand written instructions and map Sarah had given her. "We're almost there. You want to look for the tree stump that grew up through a bicycle."

"A bicycle?"

"That's what it says, Leon, a bicycle."

"Daddy, look." Taking pictures next to the growing oddity put them behind schedule by almost twenty minutes, being shown all Jethro's tricks and getting the dog and two excited children into the back of the vehicle added another hour.

-NCIS-

After almost two hours of discussing motivations, justifications and beliefs, Gibbs stood behind Greg Hall as he looked over Gibbs' work. The wheelchair-bound man eventually nodded his approval. "If this doesn't convince him, I don't know what will. Is today the day?"

Gibbs glanced down at his watch. "About three hours."

"Cutting it a little close, aren't you?"

"We made it by three hours." They both smiled before Gibbs turned serious again. "Greg, I'd like to thank you for all you did for Tim and for Sarah. It means a lot that they had someone in their corner."

Greg could still see the guilt on Gibbs' face. "Sometimes the hardest thing is accepting what you can't change and concentrating on to what you can change. You've got a good start here, don't blow it by second guessing yourself or dwelling on the past."

-NCIS-

Ducky and Jimmy had already been at the hospital for several hours meeting with McGee's neurologist, orthopedist, oral surgeon, internist and primary care physician before Tony and Sarah arrived. For the first time in many years, DiNozzo's degree in Phys. Ed. would be put to use, so he was included in the meeting with Tim's physical therapist.

Normally, someone recovering from a head injury such as McGee would be out of the wheelchair as soon as possible, but his broken arms prevented the use of a walker. Other forms of therapy would be necessary to help him regain his strength and his balance. Trust between Tim and his therapists would be crucial, especially the first few weeks when he was virtually helpless, and Tony was thrilled to be included in that small group.

Abby and Ziva had arrived at Tim's room only a few minutes before Tony and Sarah walked in, Ducky and Palmer right behind them. The discussion of who would help Tim dress was obviously embarrassing the young man, so all three women were sent into the hallway. When Tony saw his friend looking around for the missing member of the team, teasing him never crossed his mind. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed and turned Tim's face to look at him.

"Gibbs is meeting us there. He's making sure everything is up to his standards before we arrive. After all, the man personally inspected every rehabilitation hospital within fifty miles of the Yard before he told your doctors where they were moving you."

"He told them?"

"Yep. Not only that, he turned three of the facilities into the state for substandard conditions."

"Three? How many..."

"Twenty-two, and that's just because of the geographic limits he set. Gibbs told your doctor that he wouldn't let you be sent further than that from us."

Smiling and a little complacent, Tim allowed Ducky and Palmer to dress him before he was wheeled out to the sedan Tony had gotten from the motor pool. He quickly fell asleep in the car before the caravan was half way to its destination, Ducky's Morgan and Ziva's Mini Cooper following behind.

The lack of movement is what woke Tim and he opened his eyes to find their car parked in a residential driveway. He recognized the house right away. Tim had been truthful when he told his partners he'd only been in the house once, he'd just didn't mention the many times he'd driven past, wanting the offered support before backing down and driving away. Not saying anything, Sarah jumped out of the back seat to help Tony with the wheelchair they'd tucked into the trunk, leaving Tim alone for a moment to stare at the house and the man now standing on the porch.

It took a minute for Tim to notice that the carefully maintained plants along the front of the house had been ripped out to make room for a wide ramp that connected the porch to the ground level. By the time he made that connection, Gibbs was next to his open car door, preparing to lift him into the wheelchair. With Tony's help, the older man had Tim quickly and easily settled into the chair as Tim continued to stare at the ramp.

Tim finally looked up at his boss. "I don't understand."

"I know." With a sad look on his face, Gibbs reached out and gently cupped the side of Tim's face. "Gonna take care of that, first thing."

After a nod from Gibbs, Tony started pushing the chair up the ramp, following Gibbs as he moved ahead to open the door. Sarah and the rest of the team followed at a discrete distance, knowing that this needed to be between Tim and Gibbs for it to work.

Once they were inside, Tony stepped back, allowing Gibbs to push the wheelchair further into the room. Tim barely noticed the PT equipment that could be seen through the archway into what was the dining room, his attention was on the newly configured hallway back to the bedrooms. It wasn't just a matter of opening up a doorway, the entire wall dividing the hall from the living room had been both shortened and moved. The carefully patched ceiling and hardwood floors showed how much time and effort had gone into the modifications. If he'd never been inside, only the faint smell of paint would have given it away.

Gibbs carefully squeezed his shoulder before returning his hands to the handles and pushed the wheelchair down the hall. The first stop was the downstairs bathroom. A wide pocket door replaced the standard swinging door, allowing Tim to easily close it from either side. Inside, the room was larger, a storage closet having been sacrificed for the cause, giving ample room to turn a wheelchair. A wall mounted sink high enough to roll the wheelchair under it and a toilet with support bars on both sides meant that Tim would have the dignity of being able to take care of his basic needs himself. A barrier free shower with a bench completed the bathroom.

Tim didn't know what to say. "Boss, I..."

Another shoulder squeeze and Gibbs rolled him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom across from Kelly's old room. At one time a guest room for when one of Kelly's grandparents came to visit, Gibbs had moved into the room after the deaths of his family, unable to face the room he and Shannon had lived and loved in. Now it was Tim's room. A hospital bed was on the middle of the left wall, with a view of the back yard through the newly installed sliding door that lead out to the deck where Jethro lay, sleeping. One corner had his writing desk and typewriter, the other held his computer desk, the computer lovingly repaired by Abby, the monitor quietly replaced by Ducky. The entire wall in between held a shelving unit containing the records and books that had escaped the destruction in addition to a turntable.

While Sarah watched from the doorway, with the rest of the team peering around her, Gibbs knelt down so he could look up at Tim's face. "Need you to listen to me for a minute, okay?"

Tim nodded, but didn't say anything as he watched Gibbs' feet. Gibbs reached out and rested his hand on Tim's knee. "Growing up, you had a lot of people fail you and your sister." If he hadn't been looking for it, he would have missed the nod. "Do you remember your first week on the team? I told you that my door was open if you had a problem. It was too big of a risk, though. Every other time you heard those words, somebody let you down."

Out of the corner of his eye, Gibbs saw the team edge into the room, but his focus didn't change. "It was less painful to go it alone than to risk being let down again."

The tear he brushed off of Tim's face told him he was on the right track. "Then when you were cornered and had no other place to turn, I let you down. My fault, my failure, Tim, not yours. One gap in my judgment and suddenly I was no better than your uncle or Admiral Cooper or any of the other people that had let you down. It was the one thing you couldn't stand up to me about because deep down you've always been afraid that you couldn't come to me. Telling you wasn't enough, you needed me to show you. Your scientific mind needed proof that you're just as important as the rest of the team, that you're not some nuisance I have to put up with."

He wiped away a second tear from the down turned face in front in front of him. "I get it now, and I'm showing you. When we're in the field, you are just as important as Tony and Ziva to me." He thumped on his chest, "in here, you are just as much one of my kids as they and Abby are. I didn't want to interfere with the support I thought you were getting from your family and you couldn't reach out and expose your family's secrets. Bad combination, but no more. We're here now and the next time you ask for help, I'm going to hear you."

Tim looked up and stared intently at Gibbs as if weighing everything he'd been told before he made a decision. "I need help, Boss."

Gibbs reached out and laid his hands over Tim's. "You have it, Tim. Every step of the way, always."

Sarah watched in tears as her brother leaned forward to rest his head on Gibbs' shoulder. The older man didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around him. Behind her, Tony turned to whisper in Ziva's ear. "Finally, the Boss got it right."


	33. Chapter 33

**a/n - Here it is, the last chapter. This story has been an amazing ride, thanks to all of you who jumped on and rode it out with me. I'm hard at work on several stories, but I do want to get a little further along before I start posting. Thank you again ~ Emerald**

Epilogue

~Four months later~

Gibbs pulled into his usual parking space at Giovanni's. Tuesday night dinners with Fornell had become routine, only missed when one of the teams was in the middle of a hot case. Surprisingly, it was Fornell that had to miss more then Gibbs, but Gibbs had the advantage of a Director that knew how important Tuesdays were to his best team.

While the 'fathers' relaxed, Tony, Tim, Sarah and Ron went to their weekly meeting. At first Tony insisted that he was just there to help Tim, first with the wheelchair and then with the walker. Now that McGee was starting to use a cane, his partner had admitted in a group meeting how much his parents' drinking had affected him. It had been a huge admission for the cocky man, and Gibbs was proud of how his two agents had supported each other through the tough nights and long talks that had ensued.

"You're late." Fornell already had coffee and was making a dent in the basket of breadsticks he held out for Gibbs. "Did you get your confession?" When Gibbs just raised an eyebrow, Tobias answered his own question. "Of course you did."

Gibbs accepted his coffee from their regular waitress. "Tim found enough evidence on his computer that getting the confession was almost overkill."

Tobias couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, but you still enjoyed it. How's the kid doing, being back in the office this week? Getting settled in?"

"It's good to have him back, even if it's just half days right now. Still a few more months before he's back out in the field, but it's a start." Gibbs didn't even try to hide how pleased he was to have his entire team back in the squad room. He'd even caught Vance beaming down at them once or twice.

The soup arrived, the waitress adding the Parmesan without asking. After all these Tuesdays, she knew exactly how the two men took their food. Conversation was light as they progressed through the meal, touching briefly on cases solved and upcoming vacation plans. They were finishing the last of their tiramisu when Fornell's phone rang.

"Yeah, Fornell... Sacks, what... slow down..." He listened for a minute before barking out a terse "we'll meet you at the hospital." Gibbs had already tossed money on the table and was on his feet.

"What happened?"

"Car accident. They got broadsided by a drunk as they were leaving the parking lot. Apparently, Tim was knocked unconscious for a few minutes and they insisted he be taken to the hospital."

Gibbs fought back the images of a mangled car as he dialed Ziva. They needed someone to get out to the accident scene while he and Fornell went to the hospital. She was on her way before Gibbs and Fornell left the restaurant.

The two cars quickly arrived at the hospital and Fornell had to run to keep up with Gibbs. Tony, Ron and Sarah were all arguing with a nurse when they arrived and Gibbs immediately took charge. "You heard her, all three of you need to be checked out." When Sarah started to object, Gibbs tilted her chin up so he could see her eyes. "I'll be with Tim, don't worry. The first thing he's going to ask is if you're all right, so don't make a liar out of me." He gave a reassuring nod to Tony before following one of the nurses down the hall.

-NCIS-

"Hey, McGee." Gibbs bent close so Tim would see him the second he opened his eyes. He'd hoped to never see a bruise on that forehead again, but at least the green eyes opened almost instantly.

"Boss?"

Gibbs grinned in relief. "I'm right here, Tim, and you're going to be fine."

"Are the guys and Sarah all right?"

"Think so." Gibbs kept his answers short as to not tire the injured man. "They were all upright and arguing with a nurse. I didn't really stop."

He may not have stopped, but his words froze Tim and Gibbs immediately realized the significance of his off-hand comment. Tim had come a long way in the last four months in both his recovery and his understanding of his place on the team, but old habits die hard and this was the first time since their nightmare had started that both he and Tony were potentially injured. Gibbs waited patiently as Tim processed that little tidbit, sensing the exact moment when the last piece slid into place. A slight smile and relaxed shoulders were the only visible indications, but he'd learned to read the young man like a book over the last few months. Gibbs didn't say anything, just laid his hand on Tim's arm as they waited for the doctor.

Dr. Lo had enough experience with Gibbs by now to cut to the chase the moment the team leader looked at him. "Even though he lost consciousness for a few minutes after the accident, there's no sign of any additional problems." He held his finger up before Tim could try to move from the exam table. "That being said, we're keeping you overnight for observation, just to be safe."

Tim opened his mouth to argue, then saw the expression on Gibbs' face and wisely pressed his lips together. That was one argument he had no hope of winning. The strong fingers gave his arm a squeeze.

"We need to be sure that you're all right, Tim."

-NCIS-

It was long past visiting hours by the time McGee was settled in a room for the night, but Dr. Lo turned a blind eye to the group streaming into the private room. Tim first looked at his sister, needing to be assured that she was all right. Other than a bruise from the shoulder strap of the seat belt, she was fine and Tim next turned his attention to Tony and Ron, noting the butterfly bandage on Ron's forehead and the wrap on Tony's left hand and wrist. "You guys okay?"

Tony was visibly upset at seeing his friend back in a hospital room. "I'm sorry, Tim, I didn't see him run the light. You should have been sitting up front and I should have..."

"Hey!" Surprisingly, it was Ron Sacks that stopped DiNozzo's guilt filled rant. "It's not your fault. None of us saw him in time and you did your damnedest to get out of his way."

Tim started in when Ron stopped to take a breath. "Besides, it was my idea to sit in the back so Ron and I could talk." Sacks shifted uncomfortably and both Gibbs and Fornell grinned at the sight. Ron Sacks had become a fixture at the Gibbs' household recently, but only on evenings that Sarah didn't work.

Ron was saved when Ducky, Palmer and Abby arrived in the room, a nurse following behind, threatening to have them removed from the hospital. She took one look at Dr. Lo's smiling face and turned to leave without saying another word. Ducky cornered Dr. Lo as Abby started fussing over McGee. Palmer stayed out of the way with a shell-shocked expression on his face as he relayed information to Director Vance who was at a White House dinner.

The arrival of Ziva completed the group. She barely gave Gibbs a nod before checking on McGee. It wasn't until she was satisfied that he was all right that she gave her report. "Metro has confirmed that the driver of the other vehicle was drunk at the time of the accident. He did not have his headlights on and was traveling at a high rate of speed the wrong direction on a divided road. Luckily, he hit the rear quadrant of Tony's car and Tony kept it under control, otherwise it could have been much worse."

The realization of how close it had been quieted the group. Taking advantage of the break, Ducky and Fornell started the task of herding them out the door to let Tim rest. Once out in the hallway, Gibbs squeezed Tony's shoulder. "You couldn't have prevented it and you kept everyone as safe as you could. Good job."

"Thanks, Boss." His hand was shaking as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Man, when we stopped spinning and I saw him unconscious..."

Sarah hugged him. "Tim's going to be fine, you heard the doctor." Gibbs immediately reinforced her words.

"Absolutely. Now, Ducky is going to keep an eye on you and Sarah tonight, and I'll bring Tim home in the morning. Sacks, you going home with them?"

Fornell was guiding his agent to one of the elevators. "He's going to stay at my place tonight." Once they were inside, he leaned close to whisper in the younger man's ear. "It's not just McGee's approval you have to get to date his sister." Sacks' eyes opened wide as he watched Gibbs kiss the young woman on the top of the head before turning to stare at Sacks as the steel doors slid shut.

"Oh, crap."

-NCIS-

Getting the rest of the group on another elevator was a great deal more complicated, but Gibbs had almost accomplished it when Abby realized that Ziva wasn't with them. Before Abby or any of the others were able to get back off the elevator, the door to the stairs opened and Ziva appeared, holding a bag which she handed over to Gibbs before stepping onto the elevator. She stood between Tony and Abby as the doors finally closed.

Gibbs watched the numbers on the display, not relaxing until they showed that the team had arrived at the lobby level. Once he was sure they were gone for the night, he returned to Tim's room, opening the bag as he went. He helped raise the bed so Tim could sit up before handing him one of the containers Ziva had brought back for them.

Tim smiled as he took the cardboard cup and spoon. "You remembered."

"Of course." Gibbs returned the smile as he dug into his own cup. The first few days after the wires were removed from Tim's jaw had been the roughest, between the sore muscles and the shifted teeth. Tim had discovered that soft-serve ice cream was perfect, cold enough to numb and soft enough to easily melt on the tongue. Gibbs, on the other hand, had discovered that soft-serve ice cream with peanut butter and chocolate swirled into it was his young agent's favorite treat in the world. He settled into his chair next to the bed and found a cheesy, low-budget movie for them to watch.

Twenty minutes into the movie Gibbs carefully rescued the tipping cup from a sleeping McGee and turned the sound down on the television. An hour after that, Tim woke up and quietly retrieved the cup resting on Gibbs' chest before it could tip and spill.


End file.
